The Hunt.
It was something which always excited the crew out on the seven seas. The moment a new vessel was spotted in the cry went up and the queen's colors were displayed. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book which the pirate Captain employed to get those who were unsuspecting to lower their guards. Foolish prey! There was no remorse or pity for once the pirates descended upon the unsuspecting ship and went about dismembering their crew and stealing what valuables they had. Rumors circulated the horrors of the Jolly Roger. His legend spread like voices upon the wind, and it delighted the cruel men to no end. Afterall, the more fearful he was the less work he had to put in to fight those who resisted his advance.

A crack of the whip alerted the deck hands to be tasked to be at hand. Curling the leather bullwhip his First Mate Henry shouted out to the crew to get to work tying the ropes and scrubbing the deck. Loading the cannons and counting how much gunpowder and ammunition they had in order to board the sea. They were about four weeks away from heading back to port and they’ve barely anything to show for it. Hardly any ship had been worth attacking and those that did held nothing but bodies to be cut down and blood to be spilled. James was growing anxious and feeling as though he needed someone to cut down.

Walking towards the bow he turned his head left to the portside. Nothing but crystal blue and the smell of sea salt in the air. Turning towards his left he saw nothing more but-ah! Turning his head towards one of his sailors he commanded them to bring him the glass which they use to see far ahead. Hopping to it the sailor did so and James twirled his moustache as he awaited the good news. He felt a change in the air; a change that felt good to him. Sniffing the sea-salt air he turned upon his heel and looked out towards the open sea. [i Yes..] He muttered to himself before turning upon his heel and clasping his hands together. He’d be damned! His intuition was flaring up and as the looking glass was brought to him he put it to his eyes and looked once more out the starboard side.
[center [b “All hands to sail! Hoist the Queen’s colors! The hunt is on!”] ]

A cheer went up among the crew as the men hopped to it, unfurling the sail and pulling rope to let the ship fly upon the sea. The Jolly Roger was one of the fastest pirate ships. In truth, it belonged to the French. Two years Prior, Hook had been a privateer employed by Her Majesty. Once that grew stale and he left the navy but the thrill of hunting down and taking treasure was one which he couldn’t shake and wouldn’t. As the wind blew and the ship came closer and closer into view, the male stalked off to his office to ready his own supplies.

Silver with a golden hilt, his cutlass slid smoothly into his scabbard as his lifted it high examining it. Next to that, was his flint pistol which he took great care to preload so that his shot would kill and hit with deadly aim. The sensation of the hunt and the beauty of it all brought the male the sickest anticipation and joy. His mouth began to salivate as he thought about the murderous intent which he would attack and leave none left.

The minutes which ticked on felt like hours. Yet as he waited in his cabin for the sound of a knock his eyes slowly looked up at his door waiting for that knock.
[i “Captain.. It’s time…”] A voice spoke to him and instantly the male was up and ready. Bursting through the door he saw the ship which they were coming to close to within reach. Once again, Hook was donning his old navy outfit which and as he waved at the captain the ship allowed him and his crew to come closer. The Union jack was brightly waving in the air and as James came closer to he knew that his whole entire crew was hidden down below. All it would take was seconds and then..

[i “Hello sir! Have you come to escort us the rest of the way!?”] The captain bellowed over the sea. [i “We hadn’t known that….”]
Before he could finish the sound of a cannon went off and suddenly there was a roar. The jolly rogers deck was suddenly swarming with blood thirsty pirates launching grappling hooks and deploying gangways to board the other ship. Grabbing a rope, Hook launched himself off of his ship's rail and swung to the other side. Instantl he drew his gun and fired it into the nearest body closest to him.

Screams filled the air and the pirate captain let out a devilish laugh. Drawing his blade he didn’t hesitate to begin cutting down and slicing those who were in his way. As one man tried to run, he grabbed the back of his shirt and ran him through. Kicking his body off his blade, he turned and to his surprise saw that children were also on board. He hadn’t been expecting this yet, his crew was merciless and cruel and cared not for the life of children as well. Lifting his sword up, he was about to bring it down before he felt something trip him and bring him to his knees. Swinging his sword, he shouted out at the person who had made him fall. And as he pulled out his pistol, he felt someone hit it away and cut him against his arm. Enraged, the pirate captain swung the hilt of his sword and felt it connect with something hard and down it went the body of what looked to be a young teenage boy!

As the battle was fought and quickly was over the crew members began to ravage the ship finding meats and water. Along with personal money bills and other things. Turning towards the children Hook snarled at the one who was in charge before he slowed and composed himself.
[b “Insolent and proud youth! You’ve been the only one to scratch me. Whether its by mere luck! Or skill we will see. Take this child back to the Jolly roger, and strand the other boys and those left alive… I’ve been needing a cabin boy!’]

Green eyes flecked with gray narrowed in focused concentration. Peter was craning his arm between a pair of narrow metal bars and in his hand was a singular dagger positioned just so that the pointed tip wriggled inside a closed padlock. The young boy had nicked the weapon from the decorated guard who had fallen asleep at his post the night before. With the man gone to see to his duties topside for the day, Peter was poised to make his grand escape with his fellow Lost Boys. If only the damn lock would [i open!]

[#6A5ACD “How’s it coming, Peter?”] One of the boys, Simon, asked. [#6A5ACD “Everything alright? Need anything?”] Simon was Peter’s right-hand man since he was second to him in age. He was a long and lanky boy who had limp dirty-blond hair that reached his chin. As supportive as he usually was of his leader’s plans, he also always had a squirrelly anxious nature about him whenever they were putting said plans into action. It was a bit annoying really.
[#228B22 “Yeah, some quiet might be nice,”] Peter muttered as he strained his ears to listen to the soft clicking sounds inside the lock.
[#6A5ACD “Right you are, Peter. Sorry bout that. I’ll make sure you’ve got plenty of quiet now so that way you can really focus on – “]
[#228B22 [i “Simon!”]] Peter whirled his head around to glare at the blond boy. [#228B22 “Shut. Up.”] Simon nodded vigorously with his lips pressed tightly together to demonstrate his silence. Peter rolled his eyes and set back to work fiddling with the lock.

As the young teenager worked, beads of sweat began to pop up on his forehead which caused strands of his red hair to lay flat on top of it. Peter swiped it off with the back of his free hand. It must have been getting later in the morning now, closer to the afternoon. The brig was always the most unbearably hot when the sun was at its highest. There was little to no ventilation within the wooded walls of the ship, so the boys typically found themselves baking in the confined space. On top of that, they were barely ever afforded any water or food. The heat and the lack of sustenance was a tactic to keep the group in a weakened state since their reputation from the orphanage preceded them. ‘Troublemakers’ was the kindest label used in reference to the Lost Boys. So, the crew was ordered to keep them all locked up in order to avoid any of their hijinks. But they, like all adults, underestimated them.

With a significant [i clunk!] Peter pulled the base of the padlock free from the curved shackle. The other boys, Teddy, a slightly overweight child with curly brown hair; Oliver, the youngest who was a wide-eyed boy with messy black hair; and Simon, who’s contorted face finally relaxed, all cheered. Peter looked over at them, flashing a quick, cocky smile; he reveled in their praise. He let it go on for a few seconds longer than was necessary before raising a finger to his lips, shushing them. [#228B22 “Alright, lads, time to get a move on. Follow me and keep quiet.”]

The band of boys silently crept through the lower levels of the ship, hitting one another to keep quiet whenever someone stepped on a floorboard that creaked too loudly. They eventually made their way to the galley, Peter in the lead so he could peer his head through the doorway. There were three cooks who were hard at work with dinner prep, washing produce, slicing meat, and mixing spices. The redhead’s stomach growled at the sight. He ducked his head out of the frame and turned to face the other three, leaning in close so they could hear his lowered voice. [#228B22 “Okay, here’s how we’re gonna go about it: if we want to make it offa this ship, we need to get a hold of one of the lifeboats. I saw ‘em as we was brought on. They’ll be at the back of the ship. We’ll try and sneak all the way over there, but in case anyone sees us, we’re gonna need some weapons. That’s why I want us to head in here.”] He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. [#228B22 “We’re going in to grab some of the pots and pans. That way, if anyone stops us, we can bash ‘em with those. Simon,”] The blond boy straightened up, trying to look important. The fear on his face made him look more like he was grimacing, though. [#228B22 “You come in with me. We can each grab two for Teddy and Oliver. You two stay here, keep a lookout. On three, ready?”] They all nodded. [#228B22 “One… two… thr --!”]

A deafening explosion followed by a crash made the entire ship shudder. Simon and Teddy both fell on their rears, but Peter just managed to scoop Oliver up before he toppled over too. The youngest boy latched tightly onto Peter’s neck, his small body trembling in terror. The other two had only just gotten to their feet before Peter pushed them up against the wall, flattening all four of them against it as the cook’s thundering footsteps came near. He was sure they were going to snatch them all and throw them back into the brig, but they quickly ran by instead, apparently too preoccupied with whatever was going on above deck to notice the orphans. The boys all exchanged confused looks. [#228B22 “Well, let’s not just stand here,”] Peter advised as he set Oliver back down again. [#228B22 “Stick to the plan, lads.”] They all went into the kitchen, secured their makeshift weapons, and followed in the cooks’ footsteps to the upper deck.

The sound reached them before the sight did. The clanging of steel against steel rang through the air accompanied by the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Men’s voices rose in a cacophonous symphony of bellowing rage and alarm. Drifting on top of the noise was the scent of salty sea, smoking gunpowder, and sharp, metallic blood. Fist clenched, Peter cried, [#228B22 “Get to the back of ship! Quickly!”] With that, he charged upward into the fray.

The blinding sunlight seared his eyes as his head cleared the deck. Peter squinted against it, but he did not stop running in what he knew to be the general direction of the stern. His vision had only just adjusted to the light when he saw a blade swinging deathly close to his head. He quickly ducked, banging a skillet into the knees of a large man nearly three times his size. The pirate howled in pain as he crumpled onto the ground and Peter swiftly brought the pan down onto his opponent’s head. He instantly went limp. Panting, Peter looked around for his fellows. Simon had just done the same thing to a member of the ship’s original crew. Teddy was cowering behind one of the masts, but it didn’t seem like anyone was paying him any mind. And Oliver…[i where was Oliver?!]

[#EE82EE [i “PETER!”]] The high-pitched shriek came from twenty paces away. There stood a tall man with long, pitch black hair whipping in the wind who had just raised his sword to strike a death blow against the small child. Peter didn’t think. He couldn’t afford to. He sprinted into action toward the pirate, careening into a slide across the floorboards to close the distance between them quicker. His foot collided with back of the man’s ankles hard, sending him to his knees. The teenager scrambled to his feet, running around to the front of the man in order to push Oliver out of harm’s way. As he turned, however, he saw the pirate reaching for his pistol. Peter managed to stay his hand with the skillet, and he brought the serrated edge of the dagger he had used to escape across the man’s forearm. But he had leaned in too close. With a dull thud, the man’s hilt connected with the boy’s temple, and he fell to the floor cradling his head in pain as the edges of his vision wavered sickeningly. He sucked in a sharp breath though his teeth, his body in a fetal position as the battle continued to rage around him. As his pain subsided, however, so too did the fighting.

When he was well enough to do so (though his head remained tender and bruised), Peter pushed himself into a sitting position. Around him pirates ambled along; their arms full of as many stolen goods as they could carry. A few of them stood nearby, restraining a handful of the original crew members as well as the Lost Boys. Even though his weapons had been confiscated the redhead made to move toward them, but a booming voice that rang out overhead stopped him. Peter looked up into the cold eyes of the pirate captain, the same man he had injured before being incapacitated. He seemed to admire Peter’s tenacity, however, because instead of killing him on the spot for the harm he had inflicted, he wanted to make Peter his personal cabin boy. But the other boys were to be [i stranded?] That wouldn’t do.

As a couple of the pirates advanced on Peter to take him back to the Jolly Roger, he quickly lunged up from the ground toward the captain and grabbed his pistol from his belt. Staggering backward, he pointed the gun right at the man’s head and cocked it. His hands did not shake. He could hear several swords being unsheathed and based on the sudden whimpering behind him, he knew that the pirates now held the blades against the throats of the other boys. It seemed that they had reached an impasse. None of the pirates could run to their captain’s aid quicker than the reflexes it took to pull the trigger. However, if Peter did choose to shoot, he ensured the death of all his friends along with himself.

[#228B22 “Dark and sinister man,”] he said, his voice eerily calm and controlled given the situation. [#228B22 “If you take me, you take my boys too. They’re like [i my] crew. You wouldn’t go anywhere without yours; I think. The same goes for me. They all come.”] He stared down the barrel of the gun at the man, a taunting smile now playing at his lips in spite of his throbbing temple. [#228B22 “Either that, or if you leave us to perish, it’ll be I who takes you with me instead.”] Peter shook the gun in his hand a bit to emphasize his point. [#228B22 “Choice is yours.”]

The edge of death. Oftentimes the great pirate Captain walked it when he was out at sea. He’d been turning his back on the boy-that was what Hook thought he was-and in the moment the child reacted. Death brought out the greatest desperation within man and as he felt his pistol get snagged from him he turned around. Those hazelnut eyes were staring straight down the end of the barrel. That once warm and comforting sea-salt breeze turned icy against the back of his neck. Hairs stood at attention and the pirate shifted his stance from one end to another. A palm rested upon the hilt of his cutlass and as he saw his crew pushing the daggers and swords closer into the neck of the children he paused. This wasn’t the time for rash decisions. Without him, his crew would survive the harshness of the sea. Stars would guide them back to port royal and they'd be at home Jamaica. Stepping to the left slowly he saw the flint pistol following his step and he spoke softly.

[b “Yer ever felt the weight of a pistol? Know what it feels like when it's loaded or when it's empty? For all the thinking in the world you’ve done. You ever take a second to reckon that what your holding is an empty pistol? You’re a red-headed blumbering, filthy, idjita. Dirtier then a flea infest vermin running amock upon the god-forsaken sea!”] This brought a roar of laughter from the other pirates as they heard what Hook said. Normally Hook was one to blow his gasket but at times he was cool and level headed. Able to make turn an impossible and implausible situation into something which favored him the winner 9 times out of 10.

[b “Release the boys!”] Hook ordered and the crew once again bellowed with laughter. Yet there was no look of amusement on the face of the captain. Instead there was growing irritation at his orders not being followed and a delay reaction of the crew. Turning his hand towards the crew he barked out the order and the pirates-realizing that this wasn’t a jest- slowly release the boys and Hook watched as the scamper towards Peter shaking in fear at the pirate captain. Loyalty was something that he valued above all else. It was the one thing of the two things he’d taken with him from his past life. At see it was said that the Captain was next to God except he was closer. That type of haughty pride and arrogance foister a begrudging amount of work and ill intentions. Thar wasn’t how Hook wanted to govern his ship at all. He wanted it to be something akin to Athenian democracy. A home away from home.

[b “Your crew has been released to you. Loyalty is something important. It's something a pirate captain has to earn and command. I’ve plans to make a proper pirate outta ye.”] Holding his hand out for his pistol the captain waited for the boy to relent to him and allow him to have his weapon back. Once the pistol was in his position he turned towards the crew and began to bellow orders to take all but one water barrel and to get their arses back onto the ship. The wooden planks which connect the two ships were beginning to be tossed into the ocean and as Hook walked across the plank he waved towards the children to follow him across towards the Jolly Roger. This, this would be their new home. Peter had unknowingly made a deal with the devil himself and Hook hope that the boy wouldn’t regret the fact that he had been able to speak like a man to the pirate just a few minutes ago.

Peter’s face remained stony as the pirate captain questioned him in his soft, deadly voice. In truth, no, the boy had never fired a pistol before. He’d never considered taking a life either. But now, in this moment for the well-being of his friends, he told himself, he was prepared to make that lethal choice. The pistol could very well be empty, but since the man had attempted to pull it on Peter only moments ago, the boy felt confident that the chamber was full. Added to it, there was a certain look in the captain’s eye, he felt, that betrayed his words. He would not eye an empty barrel with that look.

At the laughter and verbal abuse Peter’s face burned as red as his hair, but he did not relinquish his hold on the weapon. It was not the first time the boy was mocked, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He had endured far worse, after all, at the hands of their malicious caretaker Brooks. How and why that man ever was ever deemed fit to look after children was beyond Peter. He hated them all. Brooks was liberal in dealing out punishments to his wards and he took joy in the act. One wrong look in his general direction was enough to make him hang kids from the ceiling by their thumbs for hours on end. Peter held a special place of hatred in the old man’s heart. Whether it had always been that way or if it was a product of his many pranks, the boy did not know. Whatever the reason, however, Brooks saw it fit to beat, bloody, and bruise the boy at any given opportunity. And that was in conjunction with shouting foul names at him. This instance was no different. As he’d done for most of his life, Peter simply stood there with his teeth gritted and took it.

[b “Release the boys!”] The command took Peter by surprise. Apparently, it had the same reaction for the rest of the crew too because they simply roared in more laughter at the order. As soon as the captain turned his head to eye them, however, their laughter died down and they did as they were told. Simon, Teddy, and Oliver ran over to where Peter stood, cowering behind him as he held fast to the gun. He felt a great wave of relief wash over him as their dirty hands clutched to whatever part of his clothing they could get a hold of. They were safe. For now.

Satisfied with this turn of events, Peter relaxed his grip on the pistol. In a smooth movement, he spun it around in his hand so that the handle of the gun now faced the pirate captain. With the weapon returned to him, the man resumed his duties as captain, barking out orders to his crew in order for them all to set sail again. In this time, Peter turned to his own crew, [#228B22 “You lot okay?”] he asked. They nodded.
[#EE82EE “Will we need a new plan now, Peter?”] Oliver asked, looking fearfully around at the pirates that surrounded them.
[#228B22 “I… I dunno. So, for right now, this is the new plan.”]
[#B22222 “Well, I just hope these ones feed us at least,”] Teddy groaned, rubbing his own distended stomach. They all laughed in spite of themselves before turning to see the pirates running back across the planks to the Jolly Roger. The boys followed at the beckoning of the captain, Peter bringing up the rear and landing a well-aimed kick to the face at one of the bound original crew members who begged to be taken with them.
[#4169E1 “Peter, what was he on about?”] Simon asked as Peter caught up with them while they were balancing their way across the plank. [#4169E1 “Making you a proper pirate and all?”] Peter shrugged in response, just as nonplussed by the statement.

Was the captain exaggerating, or did he really mean to act on his word? Peter wondered how on earth he had managed to go from being the new cabin boy one minute to a proper pirate the next. But he certainly wasn’t complaining! The idea brought a wide grin to his face. After years of suffering with no hope of a better future, perhaps this chance could be the path that he was destined to take. One that led to a new adventure every day, freedom across the seas, and a mountain of treasure.

Peter dismounted the plank with the rest of the boys and he, like them as well, took a moment to gape at the sheer vastness of the pirate ship. It was significantly larger than the ship they’d just been on. Its three masts seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky above, with large ratlines tied to each one that were big enough to support fifteen fully grown men. Even now, men ascended into the heavens, expertly scaling the ropes with ease in order to unfurl the sails. Massive black canvasses tumbled down to earth before they filled with the ocean’s breeze with a [i snap!] As the ship lurched forward, Peter’s gaze fell back down to the main deck. Unlike the other ship which was only large enough to support one deck with even leveling, this one had four, no, [i five] decks at various levels to support different vantage points. His green eyes hovered on the aftcastle deck where the helm was located. He pictured himself for a moment with both hands gripping that steering wheel, wind whipping a long scarlet coat, and his stare trained on the horizon. Peter shook the thought from his mind, returning to reality only to find the captain watching him carefully, presumably waiting to see what he’d make of the ship.

[#228B22 “Impressive,”] he said airily, trying not to sound too overwhelmed by the sheer scope of it all. Then, realizing that they had not been properly introduced he continued, [#228B22 “I’m called Peter, by the way. Peter Pan. [i Not] ‘red-headed blumbering, filthy, idjit.’”] Peter said the last bit coolly, nose wrinkling in displeasure at the unfavorable turn of phrase. [#228B22 “And this here’s Simon, Teddy, and Oliver.”] He motioned to each of the boys in turn as he said their names. They still refused to make eye contact with the taller man. Peter nodded in comprehension as the man introduced himself as well. Captain James Hook. It fit him well. Just then, Peter felt his stomach growling furiously. He clutched it a bit in pain as it felt like his gut was on the verge of consuming itself. [#228B22 "Say, you wouldn't happen to have any grub on here, would'ja? We've been starved, see. Sure would appreciate some food before we get on with this pirate business of yours."] His tone was matter-of-fact, but it was also entitled and expectant all the same as children were so wont to do.

The Jolly Roger; home away from home. There was a beauty to the former French Navy Ship which James Hook had admired and had grown to love. Black billowing sails unfurled and expanded catching the wind and propelling the monstrosity forward. 20 cannons lined the starboard side of the ship. Not to mention that the captain quarters had a full library along with a queen size bed which he found comfortable to sleep in every single night. Stalking about the upper deck there was a keen smell in the air. Lingering traces of gunpowder and smoke filled his nostrils along with fresh spilled blood. For a moment, he hardly acknowledges the fact that he’d brought on a bunch of British boys from some god-forsaken orphanage. Instead, he was lost in walking around the ship barking out orders to the crew and telling them to get to work on the daily task. Maintenance was a constant thing which the crew had to do. With a huge crack of the whip, firstmate Henry kept the pirate crew in check. Course, once the chores was done there was nothing else to do but shoot dice, or practice fencing and sword fighting. Something which he looked forward to teaching the little boy.

That vision of sword entwined with sword was cut short by the voice of the young child introducing himself along with his “crew.” Turning upon his heels the pirate captain took notice of the young children and nodded his head. In turn, Hook decided that it would be best if he introduced those who were important to him as well. [b “This is Henry. I call him my first mate but he’s actually the task master of the ship. Dont yer worry, his whip is just for show. I don’t believe in making my crew feel the lash o’ the whip. And that fat irish man whom you see bubbling round is my real first Mate. William Smee. The best navigator upon the seven seas!’]

With that a ruby red nose jolly sailor came bumbling upwards towards the group of boys. He was on the heavier side, an odd thing seeing as he was a pirate. Yet as he spoke, that Irish accent was unmistakable and he spoke with a rather happy voice. [b [#7ed1ed “How ya doin~”] ] As soon as Smee had introduce himself Peter remarked about being hungry and the fat man nodded his head before rubbing his belly.[b [#7ed1ed “He does have a right point Cap’n! It’s about 2 past noon and supper is very, very close.”] ] As Smee brought that point up Hook looked at the children and rubbed his fingers across his chin. Before joining the Queen’s Navy, James had been apart of the Aristocratic world. Such a luxury he’d never found himself going hungry at all. So with food being brought to his attention the male nodded his head and led the children below deck.

Below the deck was the kitchen and as the smell of roasted chicken, baked apple pie and other goods filled the nose Hook smiled. If there was one thing the French boasted most about, it was their ability in cooking. The Kitchen on the ship showed to truly be equipped with all a chef would need to cook and keep food fresh at sea. As Hook called out to the chef, he asked him to hand him an entire loaf of bread and two full chickens. Taking the loaf, the captain took a knife to it slicing off eight slices of bread. One for each boy. Along with it, the Pirate also took the chicken and sliced off a drumstick leg. And finally with one more nod he produced boiled eggs for the children. One for each of the boys to sup on.

[b “I run a tight ship Peter. Because we’re pirates and wanted men, I can afford for my crew to go hungry. Therefore we carefully keep track of all food and make sure that each man is fed well. As I said before; I don’t like using the whip upon my crew. But stealing food on the ship is like killing one of my men. Upon the wide and open sea, where your weeks between ports. Food and freshwater are the most important of all things. Stealing such things will earn you a severe flogging for your first offense. The second offense we slit your throat and throw you overboard.”]

To that Smee stuck out his tongue before dragging his thumb across his throat signifying how serious the captain's threat was. [b “I know that you boys probably haven’t been fed right.. We'll be five weeks from port. When we pull in to Jamaica, I’ll be sure to treat ya to a nice big feast with Rum and rice and Chicken and more meats. But till then, this is the best I can do for ya. Peter; I want you to assign your crew chores. Everyone here works on this ship. Sundays you can rest and sleep in after I’m done reading the bible. But all the other six days we work around the clock. Some days you’ll have night duties, others day. I’m trusting Peter to keep you in line. And as for you peter, you’ll be with me. Learning what a true leader looks like".]

The pirate must have seen the trepidation in the young boys’ faces as they eyed the man brandishing the whip, because he reassured them that it was purely for show. Three out of the four boys relaxed. Peter still held his reservations. One too many adults had lied to him by this point; it was foolish and dangerous to continue to take anything they said at face value. He intended to keep his distance far away from Henry (and his whip) for the time being. Smee, on the other hand, seemed like a man with much less fierceness. He appeared to be a good-humored man, and Peter at once appreciated the fact that he had agreed that it was high time to sup.

The Lost Boys followed the taller man below deck toward the galley. The smell of fresh meat and baked goods had the starved children practically clambering over one another to be first in line to feast. Peter, being the oldest, the tallest, and the leader of the group, made swift work out of pushing the others out of his way. Care as he might for each of them in turn, his hunger won the day over his compassion. With the boys at Peter’s back, all four of them watched Hook cut into the bread and chicken with greedy eyes. When he handed the food to each of them, they tore into it with ravenous abandon trying to fit as much into their mouths as possible.

Peter had never had such wonderful food in his life. That could have been in part due to the fact that he had not been fed in several hours. But seeing as the most coveted dish in the orphanage was warm porridge as opposed to cold, it was safe to say that this chicken far outranked anything else he’d ever consumed. Green orbs scanned the kitchen surreptitiously. If the cooks had to make large enough batches of food to feed the entire crew, surely they wouldn’t notice if a few things went missing. Not enough to notice its absence, but perhaps some scraps here and there…

The mention of his name pulled him from his scheming thoughts. Almost as if he read Peter’s mind, Hook warned the boy of the consequences of thievery. Peter unconsciously clutched his throat at the thought of having unforgiving steel sliced across it. No food was that delicious. In any case, a nice big feast with rum, rice, and chicken on the beaches of Jamaica was more than a fair tradeoff. The only issue was the work that was expected of them before they reached said beaches. Six days a week? Day and night? The boys had never worked a day in their short lives, and Peter was not thrilled by the idea of starting now. The idea of being a pirate became less enticing now. What was the point in being lawless sea ruffians if they were still forced to follow a different set of rules? Rather than arguing the matter, however, he simply gave a stiff nod. The man had saved (in a roundabout sort of way) and fed them, after all. So, for now at least, they’d work to repay those debts. Once that was fulfilled, well…who knew.

As Hook left them to their meals, the Lost Boys leaned their heads together. [#4169E1 “What you thinking, Peter?”] Simon, who had been by Peter’s side the longest, knew the glint in the redhead’s eyes that betrayed the moment when he was planning something. That very glint was there now.
[#228B22 “I’m thinking we stay here, just for a bit. We pick up some tricks while we can, the sort of stuff we can use to make our own way in the world, then when we get to Jamaica, we shove off.”]
[#B22222 “Where we gonna go after that?”]
[#228B22 “Well I dunno, do I? We ain’t there yet,”] he said irritably. He hated answering questions when he didn’t know the answer.
[#EE82EE “I thought we was gonna be pirates.”]
[#228B22 “We can be pirates for now, but not forever.”]
[#EE82EE “Wait, why not?”]
[#4169E1 “Yeah! Could be fun, you never know.”]
[#B22222 “I was wanting to be a pirate. They seem right lads.”]
[#228B22 “Teddy…”] he said slowly. [#228B22 “They were gonna slice your throat not even twenty minutes ago.”]
[#B22222 “Yeah, but they’re [i pirates.] Sort of what you’d expect ‘em do anyhow. Besides, they’ve gone and fed us now, haven’t they? Good food too!”]
[#4169E1 “Ted’s got a point there, Peter. We could stay a bit, ya know. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about running off and figuring things out ourselves and all.”] Teddy and Oliver nodded their heads in agreement. They continued to talk over one another now, trying to convince their leader to change his mind about leaving. [#228B22 [i Why don’t they get it?]] Peter could feel a hot burning sensation flare up in the pit of his stomach as the other three boys’ deliberately disagreed with him. It had never happened before. And he wasn’t about to let it continue. [#228B22 “I said, [i NO!”]]

The sudden outburst caused all the other boys to jump and the cooks to look over their shoulders at them all. The redhead was grinding his teeth together, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Just as quickly as the anger has risen, however, it immediately cooled once the boy took a long, deep breath. [#228B22 “So,”] he began with an air of ease as though the incident had never happened. [#228B22 “Let’s see about finding you wanna-be pirates some work then, shall we?”] He flashed them an untroubled smile that none of them returned.

Peter made his way up to the captain’s quarters once he had assigned all the boys something to make themselves useful. He rapped on the door with his knuckles three times before being beckoned in by the occupant. Upon entering he couldn’t help but gawk. The room was far larger and more lavish than he was expecting. From the full stocked library with more books than anyone could read, to the countless maps of the world decorating the walls, to the queen-sized bed dressed in what looked to be a sea of pillows, this was clearly the height of refined luxury. At least it was to an orphan boy. Peter made his way over to Hook, who sat at his desk pouring over various papers. He stood off to the side a little awkwardly, trying not to block the man’s candlelight.

[#228B22 “I’ve done as you’ve said.”] When Hook didn’t comment, he continued, [#228B22 “All the lads are set up with work to do now. Simon’s helping up in the rigging to inspect and patch up the sails, Teddy’s still down in the kitchen to work on meal prep for the crew, and Oliver’s on deck dealing with cleaning it up and all. Only one without work’s me, I’suppose. But I suspect that’s what you meant bout being a ‘true leader’ and stuff earlier? That’s meant to be my [i work?”]] Peter spat out the last word a little more harshly than intended, but the thought truly did repel him. In an attempt to recover for his cheek, he asked, [#228B22 "I mean... how'd you end up being a true leader anyhow? Captain of your crew?"] And, anticipating a story, his childlike wonder shone through as Peter eagerly pulled up a chair to seat himself at the desk as well.

As soon as the boys were fed Hook set off to do work of his own. One didn’t become captain just because he was fierce in battle or smart. No; in a democracy, one becomes captain because he was elected for it and had their best interest at heart. Moving downwards to the other decks of the ship, his eyes looked at the barrels of freshwater that was still had along with the fruits and what not. Upon the sea scurvy was a disease which affected many. While most pirates didn’t mind not having a full head of teeth, the British born lad did. So as he looked at the barrel of oranges which were still fresh he looked at Smee and then back at the barrel. So far it seemed as though things were all in order and he was proud of Smee.

Heading back towards the top of the deck Hook walked towards his cabin. As he did the other pirates looked at him, nodding their heads. Some-he knew by just their looks-were wondering what he was doing bringing about kids on board. These orphans were nothing more but another mouth to feed. But as he saw some of the kids helping out Hook nodded his head. Now, now was time to look at the charts and for the second boat which needed to be hunted down. This boat was a ship which was called the Wasps. A Spanish man of war, it was carrying golden coins along with muskets as well. Muskets were something which would help capturing ships easier and so as he headed into his room and looked at the charts and logs he hummed to himself.

It had been two weeks since they left the port of Singapore. Almost two months ago they set sail towards the Asain coast in order to gather intel about the elusive ship. The ship had been what the pirate crew had been closing in on for the better half of four months. Each time they were getting close to it somehow it disappeared. But Captain Hook at a rather good feeling in his stomach that that ship was going to be showing up pretty soon. Afterall, Jamaica was just a stones skip and throw away from Spain.

As his finger traced the topography of the sea and the predicted trajectory of the ships route, he just then heard the sound of a knocking on his door. The Pirate captain knew full well whom that was and without even speaking he allowed the boy to come in. As he did so his eyes watched as the red head carefully as he stalked around amazed at the size of the cabin. And as the boy sprouted off such nonsense the captain rolled his eyes. He was-as hard to imagine it-a child after all. He hadn’t the slightest clue as to how things work. An educated name, Hook had studied the world and read plenty of books detailing the ways of the world before he joined the navy.

[b “Didn’t you not hear me properly when we first met? I said you’d be my cabin boy. See that rag and the wooden shelves with books on it? They’re filthy with dust. Get to polishing the wood boy.”] Hook spoke half heartily as he continued to pour over the sea maps. As his leaned forward his eyes suddenly were tickled by the question which the boy had asked him. With a crooked smile the male shot up his and he turned his head sideways. Indeed how had he become the infamous hook. Without warning he jumped up and grinned.

He’d wasn’t a vain man by any stretch of the imagination. However he took great pride in where he’d come from and all that he’d accomplished. And so as the boy had asked him where and how he’d ended up becoming a Pirate, Hook couldn’t help but speak softly. [b “Ah, so you want to be knowing what a true leader and pirate captain is eh? Believe it or not, all of the men aboard this ship belong to the queen's navy a mere two years ago. When I joined the navy academy I didn’t want to be a grunt working the ship, so I volunteered to be a privateer. And for four years I worked for the British empire. During that time I actually captured this ship from the French. And once my years of service were up me and my crew were still thirsty for battle and so we decided to become full blown pirates. We were tired of being slaves to the crown.]

[b And as for how I met Smee. Well, we picked up that drunken Irish man in a Tortuga. But, the truth is.. This ship is a democracy. I was voted into my position of captain and my job is to keep my crew happy at all times. A good leader, Peter, can’t be selfish. It may look like I do nothing but boss people around. But, truth is, I’m always taking into accounts how the crew is doing, what their needs are, what ship to hunt. Come here Peter..”] Urging the boy forward, he placed showed him the map which laid on the table.

[b “The Wasps is a Spanish merchant ship. We’ve been tracking this ship four the better half of three months. It’s my idea to see that we catch this ship and I know that the crew is getting restless. If, when we put into Jamaica, we haven’t found this ship, then I might be voted out as captain. And I feel the winds a blowing my way.”] As Hook let Peter in on that little secret he moved to stare out the windows of his cabin. This, this was the hardest hunt which he’d led his crew on. Even including the four years he worked as a privateer. For six years he’d lead these men, two of them with Smee on board and he felt the pressure riding up on him. Failure wasn’t an option for the pirate captain.

Peter nearly fell out of his chair in surprise as the captain leaped away from his desk and grinned down at him. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat. That was likely the only reason he didn’t let out a startled scream in that moment. He hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic reaction to what he had considered a bland and unassuming question. Clearly, though, Hook was more than eager to share the story of his origin. And, recovering from his momentary cardiac failure, Peter righted himself in his seat once more and leaned forward to drink in the man’s words.

Anyone could say what they liked about the boy, and it would doubtlessly be true. He was a leader, yes, but he was arrogant. He was exceptionally clever, true, but also very stubborn. He cared deeply about the Lost Boys, of course, but he looked out for himself above all. However, [i no one], could say that he was not a good listener. At least when it suited him to be one. And it typically only suited him whenever someone wanted to spin him a tale. The boy was an enrapt audience who soaked up a good anecdote like a sponge. He would typically remain quiet throughout a retelling, only ever interrupting in order to ask relevant questions or request elaborations. But Hook was a masterful storyteller, and the young boy did not cut him off once.

His mouth gaped open when the man revealed that everyone on board used to be under the employ of the Queen. The images of the blood thirsty pirates aboard the vessel simply did not align with the well-mannered and well-groomed soldiers of the navy. But then again, if Peter was forced to wear a stuffy uniform and do someone else’s dirty work for four years, he would be very likely to turn to skullduggery as well. The boy’s shock was stoked further still when Hook said that the ship operated under a democracy; that he was voted into his position as the captain. And his job was to keep the crew [i happy?] What did he care about the crew’s emotional well-being? What good was being a captain if you couldn’t really get to people to do as you liked?

Peter’s face betrayed his skepticism when the man beckoned him closer to the table. He hesitated for a moment; his previous vision of the pirate captain now shattered. Curiosity won the day, though, because he eventually obliged. His green eyes now scanned over the charts as Hook explained the progress – or lack thereof – that he’d made in hunting the ship down. He raised his gaze to consider the man as he spoke forlornly about the consequences that might arise should he fail to capture the coveted ship. He almost pitied him. It would leave anyone feeling gutted to have people that one trusted turn on them, even if it was under arguably valid reasons. But, on the other hand, it once more called into question exactly how much power this man truly had if he could be easily voted off as captain of a crew he’d commanded even before they all turned to pirating. Peter chose to refrain from cruelty by pointing this out.

[#228B22 “You’ll get it,”] he said reassuringly with an air of unearned confidence. After all, it was not he who had been after the ship for months on end. Still, there was such an easiness to his tone that it almost warranted taking the boy at his word. [#228B22 “But not in Jamaica, I think.”] Peter bent over the maps, his brow furrowed in thought. [#228B22 “Come, see here,”] It was now he who was beckoning the captain back to his desk. [#228B22 “If they’re setting down here for stock and trade,”] He pointed to the far-right side of Florida which was clearly marked with the captain’s scrawl. [#228B22 “Then they’re not gonna want to go back to Spain all the way over there. Not without getting as much stock and trade as they can before then at any rate. They’ll make the rounds here first,”] He traced the whole of the Gulf of Mexico with his finger. [#228B22 Before they make stops here, and here,”] The underside of Cuba, and Puerto Rico. [#228B22 [i “Then] they’ll head back to Spain. If you want that ship, then I’d say you ought to go to one of them ports before they get there. That way, you can ambush them.”] Peter straightened back up again, a satisfied smile plastered on his young face.

As the pirate captain explained everything to the boy, he was truly testing him to see how intuitive he was. Brows furrowed as his cabin boy beckoned him back to the map and traced the outline ports. Of course, any experienced captain would’ve realized all which Peter pointed out was true. Jamaica wasn’t something which Spain would have any interest in. If anything, they’d be better off heading them off in Cuba. That small island had a port which was called Havana and it had been under Spanish rule for nearly a few hundred years. Or so that was what Hook thought perhaps the pirate captain was wrong. Stroking his beard the male nodded his head looking at the young orphan.

Peter had passed his little test with flying colors and as let out a grin he turned towards the boy and spoke softly. [b “Thinkin’ like a proper pirate already my boy! Everything that you said was true. And so I think it’s best we start telling the true to make plans to head to florida!”] As he stood up over the map the pirate nodded his head and began to make his way out towards the door and towards the deck. Already Night was beginning to fall all over the sea and as the sun began to turn a bloodied red Hook let out a low sigh. Time had passed quite quickly and today had been full of adventure and unfathomable twists.

In truth of it all; the man was not disheartened or upset by the unexpected addition to his crew. If anything he was beginning to see a rather good use for them. And not only that, but if they caused him any trouble then he’d just leave them in Jamaica after the Wasp was capture with a small lump of golden coins which would last them quite a while. As the male walked towards the deck he came closer towards his big bellied friend Smee and waved him over towards him. As he did so the big jolly Irish man came bumbling towards him grinning as he gave he a smile.

[#13EBC0 “Hi there Cap’n. We’re makin’ quite some process to Jamaica. We should be there in bout short of a few weeks just like you said.”]
[b “Mmhm, It seems as though we’re gonna have a change of plans.”]
[#13EBC0 “Change of plans Cap’n? but ...but… what for? Is we not gonna go to Jamaica like ya wanted us to?”]
[b “No Smee.. We’re going hunting.. It seems like Peter here found us the elusive Wasps. We’re gonna dock at Florida and cut em off there..”]
[#13EBC0 “Flordia! Oooh, good Heavens Cap’n. Seems like we’re going to need to get to it then! I’ll send out dem orders right now!”]

[i sorry for the short post. writers block]

Peter’s chest swelled with pride at the title of ‘proper pirate.’ Though he loathed the work that was still sure to accompany it, he liked the official sound of it very much. The boy mimicked the man and stood when he did, following him out of the cabin. He was shocked at just how quickly the sun had made its descent across the sky. Dusk was upon them, with the sky turning red and the sea turning black in its wake.

As Smee approached, Peter returned the man’s smile. He beamed brighter still as Hook gave him credit for his discovery of the Wasp. [#228B22 “Yup, change of plans, off to Florida,”] he echoed cheerily, (albeit unnecessarily). It was clear that he wanted to take this opportunity to revel in his minor success. [#228B22 “And I’ll go let my lads know too!”] Peter exclaimed. Before either of the two men could get in another word to him, he was off.

He raced along the deck, his feet pounding against the worn wood. And very nearly tripped right over Oliver. The youngest of the orphans was on his hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water scrubbing and polishing the floorboards. [#228B22 “Oliver! There you are. Where’s Simon and Teddy?"]
[#EE82EE “One’s still up top and the other down below, I think.”]
[#228B22 “C’mon, let’s gather them up. I’ve got to tell you all something.”] Oliver stood and tossed his sponge into the water. Peter let him have a moment to dry his hands off on his trousers and the two were racing off together. They soon found Simon in the topmost portion of the rigging and Teddy in the galley cutting up vegetables. Peter pulled them both from their assigned posts and the Lost Boys all snuck off to the crew cabin several decks below.

The crew’s quarter were much dingier than that of the captains. That much was to be expected, but it was truly abysmal. A musty scent hung in the air. It was thick and smelled of sweat and dirty undergarments. Which, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, considering that undergarments along with an assortment of other clothes were messily strewn about the room. Hammocks also hung along the walls and swung with the swaying of the ship. Each space had different trinkets that denoted the pirate occupant. Pictures of home, small weapons, boots, and the like. The lanterns had already been lit here and they cast eerie shadows around the room, but the other three boys were buzzing with too much excitement about whatever their leader had to say to be bothered by any of it. Surely it was going to be something good. It was rare form for Peter to be so giddy.
[#4169E1 “What’s all the fuss about then, Peter?”] Simon asked eagerly. And Peter was more than happy to recount the happenings of his one-on-one with the captain of the ship. Of course, he enjoyed some embellishment here and there.
[#228B22 “Oh, you lads should’ve seen him! It was really was a gas. He was basically crying, [i begging] me to help him find this other ship. So, I go and have a look at his map, right? And it’s plain as day to me really. I says to him, I says, you can’t be going to Jamacia – not when what you really need to be doing is trying your hand at Florida or somewhere around Cuba and the like.”]
[#4169E1 “Ooh, so is that why we’re changing courses then?”]
Peter fixed him with a glare. [#228B22 “I was [i getting] to that part. What’re you going and trying to spoil my story for?”]
[#4169E1 “I just heard talk in the rigging is all. Sorry.”]
[#B22222 “Ah, go on, Peter. Keep telling it!”] Teddy urged, clearly trying to diffuse some of the tension. With a glower, Peter tore his eyes away from Simon and tried to regain his train of thought.
[#228B22 “Anyways… yeah, I told him about the other ports, and the captain goes and says that I’m already thinking like a proper pirate.”] Again, his chest swelled with pride. [#228B22 “Then he goes and gets Smee, tells him my plan, and says that now we’re gonna go cut the Wasp off in Florida instead.”] The boys all cheered for their leader.
[#B22222 “Wow, a proper pirate,”] breathed Teddy in awe. Peter nodded importantly.
[#EE82EE “So, does this mean we are back to trying to be pirates now, Peter?”]
[#4169E1 “Oh, right! Now that we ain’t going to Jamaica anymore, has the plan changed at all?”]
Peter faltered for a moment. He hadn’t considered that. In theory, they could still all jump ship in Florida if they wanted. But then again…he [i had] enjoyed Hook’s praise.
[#228B22 “I dunno yet. We’ll have to feel it out and see.”]
[#4169E1 “Right, right, of course.”] Simon paused hesitantly. But if there was ever a good time to sway Peter’s mind on something, it was usually when he was in the best spirits. [#4169E1 “Well, I really like it. I mean, whoa, you should have seen me swinging up in the ropes and all – like flying it is!”] Teddy and Oliver oh’d and awe’d. Peter smiled passively, moderately resentful of Simon trying to steal his spotlight.

Before he had a chance to bring it up, however, the taskmaster Henry came barging through the doors. All the boys scrambled up from their huddle. [#FFD700 “And what do you all suppose you’re doing lazing about when there’s work to be done, eh?”]
[#EE82EE “We wasn’t lazing!”] piped up Oliver meekly.
[#FFD700 “Oh no, lad?”] The large man scoffed. [#FFD700 “Cuz we’ve just got orders to change our course. Which means you ought to be assisting on deck. And you,”] He pointed at Simon. [#FFD700 “Need to be up adjusting the sails. And you,”] His attention now turned to Teddy. [#FFD700 “Are gonna be needing to fix up more food for our late night sup.”]
[#228B22 “Well, I was the one what gave the orders in the first place,”] Peter said defiantly, stepping between the large man and his crew. [#228B22 “I got the course changed and I pulled my boys for a chat about it. S’all. No need to get all worked up about it.”]
[#FFD700 “Then you ought to see to it that they keep up with their work [i before] you go pulling them. Back to it!”] He barked. The three scrambled out quickly, ducking beneath the gaze of the hulking man. Peter stood his ground, however. Henry, in response, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and gave him a hard shove out the door. [#FFD700 “Watch yourself, boy. This ain’t no pleasure cruise.”]

Peter smoothed out his shirt bitterly, a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue. He thought better of it, though. Best to quit while he was ahead for now. He left with a bitter backwards glance toward the taskmaster.

Henry, meanwhile, reported back to the captain’s quarters. He knocked on the door and entered when beckoned in. He stood at attention near the door of the room, not fully entering out of respect for the captain. [#FFD700 “Sir,”] he said, waiting until Hook met his gaze. [#FFD700 “Just thought I ought to report to you on our most recent additions. I caught ‘em hanging around in the crew cabin instead of working. They was huddled together, real conspiratorial like. Dunno about ‘em, to tell you the truth. Specially that leader of theirs. He’s got an attitude, ya know. I can tell he doesn’t take well to taking orders, sir. We really want that sort of trouble on board?”]

[#8D0FA4 “Why do you look at the sea all day father?”]
[#8E8E8E “Because my son, I sense something isn’t right.. I feel… I feel.. As I did when I was a young man..”]
Standing alone on the Island one a dark skinned man eyed the sea before closing his eyes. To him, the air smelt bitter. No words could accurately describe the feeling of dread which he felt coursing through his veins, yet he felt it still. Many, many years ago, when he was just a young boy who’d seen 18 winters, he’d had this feeling as well. The very next day he awoke to the sound of shouting and found strangers upon his Island. Sailors who spoke a different language and who went out foraging for food and trying to find help. If he’d had been a wiser man, then perhaps he would’ve stayed away from the englishman. But he felt as though he couldn’t ignore the plight of these strangers. Little did he know that the next day he would be sent off to be force to spend twelve long and hard years at sea under the sail of a sadistic captain. His very first day on the ship, was the introduction to a world that was cruel beyond worlds. Not even the phrase Hell could be aptly used to describe it. Closing his eyes, the male remember that day fully well.

[b [i “I swear to Christ almighty, I’ll make a proper english man outta you!”] ] [i The voice of the
Captain rain down above the deck as he stood towering over the captive Islander. His eyes were looking upwards to the Brown hair Englishman who held a velvet bag. Tossing it below deck, he watched as the boatsman pulled out a tangle messed. It was something which he’d never seen before. A Wooden handle which had nine pieces of rope with several knots tied throughout the length. Looking down at him the Captain spoke out loud. [b “You’re name from now on is John. You’ll answer to it! We speak english on this ship. Every none english word you speak will be punished by a dozen lashes. You dare speak your native name, a dozen lashes. You refuse to answer to the name of John, a dozen lashes. You even look at me wrong, a dozen lashes! Hell, If i wake up and I just feel like having your flogged, I’ll flogged you by the name of baby Christ. I’ll break you. I swear to Bloody Christ and the Virgin Mary, I’ll break you. What’s you name boy!”] ]

[i Fierce pawn stood looking at the Captain and said nothing. To him, everything which the Captain said border on gibberish. Instead his eyes were still focusing on what was going on. Sure, he’d been on small canoes and sailed out upon the ocean to fish but never. Never had he’d been on such a thing so huge and large. He wasn’t being defiant, but to the Englishman Fierce Pawn, whom he’d named john, was nothing but a savage. So jerking his head, he ordered Fierce pawn to be tied to the Mass. Of course he struggle, fought back, and resist and that only made the English Captain more mad. By the time they’d tied him to the Mass, the Captain had ordered his punishment to be five dozen lashes! [b “Well teach you proper english. Starting off with numbers. Consider this, an english lesson with love!”] Stripping off his jacket, the boatmans took the cat of nine tails and nodded to the captain. With that the captain nodded his head and the flogging began. The pain was unlike anything Fierce pawn had experienced. His back was torn asunder and he was flayed practically alive by the cat o nine tails. Each time he passed out, the captain order water thrown at him to wake him up and from that moment on, every time the Captain wanted Fierce Pawn to “learn english.” he did so by having him repeat the word while being flogged. Every week the captain found a reason to give him a dozen lashes and for the first few months Fierce Pawn spent more time recovering from beatings and being crippled than working the ship.]

[#8E8E8E “‘Gather all the warriors and have them prepare our weapons. Dip our arrows in poison, sharpen our spears and knives. I fear as though we may be visited again by Englishmen.”] Fierce Pawn spat out that word as though it were a curse. Thirty-three years ago he escaped the ship once again because it stormed. When he’d arrived upon the Island many of his own people had thought him to be a ghost. His father had died from grief and his mother married another Chieftain. All were disgusted and awed by the thousands of scars which had been forced to endure over the cruel captain.

It took months for him to relearn his tongue, but once he did he slowly began to recover from the ordeal he made sure that such a thing would never happen. If there was anything he took away from his experience was to be cruel and cruel he was. For a time, but through love and dedication the horrors which he experience were cured.. And he was able to find piece..

[right [pic https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/1055256440611454976/GcDq4vgU.jpg] ]

There was no peace for the Pirate Captain as he heard knocking upon his door. Turning upon his heels he barked for the man who disturbed him to come in. In all honesty, he’d been expecting a certain red-headed boy to come floating in high on his foremorer compliment. Hook-though he was quite far removed from it-had been a young man once. He remembered what it was like to be praised and the giddiness and glee which came from such a praising and a loving tongue. Instead it was his quarterMaster Henry. As the man came waltzing in describing his concern for the boys and questioning his Pirate captain’s decision James took it all in.

Looking at Henry the male spoke softly. [b “Peter.”] He spoke softly. [b “The leader name is Peter. True, he’s an arrogant, cocky, little bligering dirty rat! But he’s got quite the knack for leadership and an intelligent and wit which I’d like to sharpen. In truth; I was thinking of using him to help me find the Wasps and afterwards dropping him and his crew off at Jamaica. Lord knows that if anyone found out he and his friends joined a Pirate ship they’d be branded outlaws, hunted down and Hanged. No exceptions are made, not even for youths. They’ve drawn a rotten lot in life. Least we can do as Adults is make sure they’re taken care of.”]

Hook was indeed a very cruel man when it came to taking ships and capturing others. But when it came to children he’d somehow had a soft spot. There was something about Peter which made him want to cultivate him into something more and give him the head start he deserved. Had the boy not been born an orphan, the pirate captain felt like that daring redhead would’ve been able to amass wealth of a sizable portion.

Looking back at the captain Henry nodded his head before adding. “I have a Misses that owns a plantation in Jamaica. Maybe… maybe, we can let the kids stay there. Ya’know.. For a year till they find out what they want. Its a shame… Niggers aint no proper company for english boys but.”

[b “HENRY!”] Hook barked. [b “I’ll not have you use the word ‘nigger’ in my presence. Its offensive! Every man deserves to be treated as a man, not a dog. And that word is from the devil! Now out!”] Hook Barked and Henry nodded, apologizing. He hadn’t meant to offend the captain but the word had just slipped.

[center [pic https://w7.pngwing.com/pngs/332/245/png-transparent-fantasy-the-fantastic-frame-series-others-love-white-text-thumbnail.png] ]

[b “HOLD THE LINES STEADY! BRACE YOURSELVES MEN! PETER! GET YER CREW BELOW DECK! LEAST YOU WANT TO SEE THEM THROWN INTO THE RAGING SEA!”]

As thunder illuminated the night time sky, Hook grabbed hold of the Steering wheel and did all he could to do it steady. The past few days had gone by smooth and all of his men had been working like a well oiled machine to catch up to the Spanish Wasp. Indeed everything had been going according to plan but without warning, this storm from seemingly the depths of hell had sprung up out of nowhere. Now the ship was being beaten and toss about by the waves viciously to and fro. The rain beat down upon the crew members making it nearly impossible to sea and as Henry shout out over the thunder he ordered the crew to heave and ho.

The ropes needed to be pulled so that sails wouldn’t be damaged. It was a fierce battle and the storm was seemingly winning. Even the crew which had been sleeping below were called up to help battle the storm. All the While Smee was tied to the look out nest, above. His eyes were peeled up ahead making sure that they were still on track. As the wave knocked the ship to and from, the wheel began to spin rapidly and Hook let it go for a while, before catching it and turning it back on course.

Once more the sea roared and the waves splashed upon the ship deck. Many sailors were knocked over by it but they were experienced. They knew how to brace against the freezing waves and not allow themselves to be dragged under to the cruel sea below. Slamming up against the railing, Henry gasps for breath before he ran towards one of the lost boys. Somehow he’d not heard Captain Hooks order to get below deck, and as Henry grabbed him and held him close, he fiercely began to drag/carry the boy below deck before tossing him down below. And, before he had time to do anything, a wave came at him and giving the boy a brief grin, he slammed into the railing of the ship before falling overboard.

The night was a long run and a hard one but with the morning the seas were calm. And accounted for. Walking the deck the soak captain started to bark out for orders. As he did so, he called for Henry. But there was no answer. Calling for Henry again he waited to hear an answer but still none came. Screaming he shouted again [b “Where in the bloody hell is Henry! Henry!”]

Chilled to the bone. Peter heard the phrase before, but only now could he appreciate the full scope of its meaning. The rain came crashing down from the sky in heavy thunderous diagonal sheets. Each drop that landed on exposed skin felt like an icicle searing down past flesh, past blood, and right into the marrow of the bones. It seized up the muscles instantly, freezing them with their chilling unwelcome touch. The only things Peter felt he could freely move at this point were his teeth, but they were chattering of their own accord. The young boy wanted to curl into a ball on the floor to try and retain what little heat he had left in his body. But he couldn’t afford to do so. The redhead stood as securely as he was able with the rest of the crew, both hands clenching onto a rope so hard that he could feel the material slicing into his slick palms. Although the winds and the waves battered the ship left and right, they braced themselves against the sickening motion to hold fast and secure the sails.

[b “PETER!”] Even over the crack of the thunder, he could hear the captain calling his name. He jerked his head up in the direction of the helm, squinting his eyes against the onslaught of water cascading from the sky. A brilliantly dazzling streak of blue lightning danced across the sky momentarily illuminating Hook. [b “GET YER CREW BELOW DECK! LEST YOU WANT TO SEE THEM THROWN INTO THE RAGING SEA!”] Peter certainly didn’t want that. With a grunt, he gave one final tug on the rope before letting go. One of the other crew members filled his gap in the line and reassured the boy that he’d take it from there. Peter nodded his appreciation and went to find the other Lost Boys.

The orphan’s legs slipped and slid beneath him. There was little to no purchase on the wet wood. Added to it, the ship’s violent rocking was almost enough to send the deck from a horizontal plane to a near vertical one. It took everything in him to steady himself and refrain from tumbling over the rails himself. Peter held his arm to his forehead as he stumbled onward attempting to use the limb as a makeshift shield from the rain. Somehow, miraculously, he spotted his crew near one of the ship’s rails. They each had a bucket, and they were trying to scoop up some of the residual water on deck before tossing it back into the raging sea. Peter was relieved to see them still on board, but his heart slammed into his throat as yet another colossal wave reached its crest and began to descend upon them. He began to sprint toward them, his hands cupped around his mouth to shout, [#228B22 “GET BACK! MOVE, [i MOVE!”]] Their heads turned toward him, but it was too late.

With the sound of a firing canon, the wave breached the side of the ship and pummeled into the boys. They all lost their footing instantly. In a tangle of limbs, they disappeared beneath the water. If they had screamed, the wind whipped their voices away too quickly to be heard. As the wave began to subside back overboard, the pull of the water started to drag the boys with it. Peter dived and made a desperate grab for Teddy’s forearm. The chubby child latched onto him for dear life, in turn grabbing Simon who then grabbed Oliver. With a mighty heave, Peter managed to pull them a safe distance away from the hungry sea. They all lay panting heavily on the deck for a moment, each of their short lives having just flashed before their eyes. [#228B22 “You need… to get… below deck…”] Peter finally managed to say in between racking gasps. His heart had finally returned from his throat to his chest, but he felt like he was choking regardless. Simon, Teddy, and Oliver all nodded; they did not need to be told twice. [#228B22 “Hold hands. Stick together. Simon – get them down safely.”]
[#4169E1 “What about you, Peter?”] Simon, who looked on the verge of tears, asked. It was difficult to tell whether or not he was actually about to cry given the rain.
[#228B22 “I’m staying up. I’ve got to help still. I’ll be alright though. Always am. Now [i go!”]]

Peter left them and disappeared back into the onslaught of rain. Simon was often left in charge in Peter’s absence, but never when the stakes were so high. They could barely see a foot past their own noses and had nearly died only moments ago. How was he supposed to get them back below deck? A thunderclap overhead shook the blond boy from his momentary panic. He scrambled to his feet and urged the other two to do the same. He hooked his hands under their upper arms and began to half lead and half push them in the general direction of the stairs that led to the cabins below. The boys all bowed their heads against the wind and the rain, trudging with all their might. A couple of times Oliver’s legs gave out from under him, but Simon managed to keep his grip steady and help the youngest back onto his feet. No hardship that he’d ever faced felt as near impossible as this. But luckily, the warm glow of lit lanterns flickering below soon shone through the sheets of rain. The boys reached the narrow entrance and quickly began to descend one by one. First Oliver, then Teddy, then – [i no!]

A mighty crash, a cold salty spray, and the ship was lurching violently sideways again. Before Simon could follow the other two boys, he was swept off his feet and sent into a sickening slide across the deck. He desperately scrambled to find some purchase on the wood, but the incline was too steep and the deck too slippery. Rain continued to pelt his face as well making it impossible to get his bearings. All he knew was that he’d soon be cast overboard and swallowed whole by the sea. And Simon screamed. He screamed in the long, loud high-pitched way that was only a sound capable of being made by a young, terrified child.

Just then a pair of thick strong arms seized him around his midsection and scooped him up just before he toppled over the edge. Tears streamed freely down his face now both from sheer fear and relief. Simon held fast to the arms around him nails digging unintentionally into the skin. Then, he was unceremoniously tossed down the set of stairs leading to the decks below. He couldn’t even feel the bruising to his ribs as he crashed onto the unrelenting wood; he was just grateful to still be alive. Simon swept his long hair from his face and looked up into the face of his savior, Henry… seconds before he disappeared over the edge of the ship.

Peter came down below deck hours after he’d sent his crew into its safe confines. He was cold, wet, and exhausted. The storm had fought a hard battle and nearly beaten them, but with its eventually calming Peter knew that they had been the ones to win the night. He’d been released from his duties to catch a few hours of sleep once the storm finally broke. It was the very early morning hours, and the sky was still dark with looming clouds. He was envious of the other three who he was sure would already be asleep. Sure enough, Teddy and Oliver slept soundly in their hammocks. But Simon, on the other hand, was sitting bolt upright in his. Curiously, Peter made his way over to his second in command. The blue-eyed boy stared vacantly at the wooden walls and did not acknowledge the redhead as he took a seat next to him.

[#228B22 “Simon?”] Peter asked him cautiously. His voice was a whisper so as to not wake the other two. [#228B22 “Simon, you alright?”] No answer. [#228B22 “Hey, it’s okay, Simon. The storm’s over we’re safe now.”] Still nothing. [#228B22 [i "Simon!”]] Peter smacked him hard across the face. Suddenly, the other boy jolted to his senses. He blinked several times and looked at Peter as if he was seeing the redhead for the first time ever. Then, to Peter’s absolute horror and disgust, massive tears began to well up in his friend’s eyes. [#228B22 “Oi!”] Peter snapped. Simon had just made the move to crumble into Peter’s lap, but he held the sobbing boy at arm’s length. [#228B22 “Get a hold of yourself, yeah? I’ve told ya we’re alright! Storm’s over!”]
Simon shook his head woefully. [#4169E1 “Not the-the storm,”] he said in a voice cracking with emotion. [#4169E1 “I-It’s Henry…”]
[#228B22 “Oh, yeah? What about him? He tell you lot off again? ‘Cuz you can tell him to – ”]
But again Simon shook his head. [#4169E1 “D-dead. All because of me.”]
Peter looked at him quizzically, not quite understanding. [#228B22 “You mean, like, you wanna kill him?”] He asked, trying to clarify.
[#4169E1 [i “No!"]] Simon snapped. Peter looked slightly taken aback. Simon had never snapped at him before. [#4169E1 “I-I got swept away by another w-wave last night. Before I c-could get below deck. H-He came and saved me but… but…”] The boy became overwhelmed with emotion once more. Peter had half a mind to smack him again; boys weren’t supposed to cry. But he refrained. Clearly Simon was in some kind of hysterical state. It was unlikely that smacking him would make it any better.
[#228B22 “But, [i what?”]] Peter asked as patiently as he could manage. Which is to say, not at all. He was tired, and this infuriating back and forth with Simon was the one thing keeping him from collapsing into sleep.
[#4169E1 “He went t-to put me down a-and got knocked overboard!”] And with that Simon completely broke down. He swatted Peter’s hand from his shoulder and buried his face in his hands, his dirty blond hair falling in a concealing curtain around his face. His tremendous sobs caused his entire lanky body to tremble. Peter stared at Simon’s hunched form with his mouth slightly agape. Henry was dead. And it [i was] Simon’s fault.

Of course, any rational adult would know that was not true. It was Henry’s choice to look out for the young lad, and it was simply and unfortunate act of nature which took the man’s life. Being children, however, neither Peter nor Simon could see the bigger picture surrounding his death. They only knew that if something went wrong, there always had to be someone to blame. And consequences to suffer.

[#228B22 “Simon, look at me,”] Peter whispered urgently. He waited until the bloodshot blue eyes met his green ones. [#228B22 “Did anyone else see? Does anyone else know about what happened to Henry?”] Simon shook his head. [#228B22 “Okay. Good. We’ve got to keep this a secret then, alright?”] Simon’s eyes widened and his lower lip began to quiver. [#228B22 “I’m [i serious], Simon. If word goes round that you went and killed the taskmaster of the ship, you’ll be the next one to go overboard. You can’t tell anyone about this. Not if you want to stay alive. Just… try and get some sleep for now. Here, lay down. That’s it. And quit crying. You can’t look guilty either. Quit worrying. People will notice he's gone missing and just put two and two together about what happened to him. It’ll blow over. Promise. We just need to wait it out.”] Peter gave Simon a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as the younger boy pulled the covers up to his chin, still sniffling but at least a little calmer. With a heavy sigh, Peter clambered into his own hammock. Despite his exhaustion, he lay there for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling, listening to the Lost Boys’ gentle snores, and wondering what the morning held for the lot of them.

When the other boys awoke the next morning, they all looked a little worse for wear. Simon’s eyes remained reddened and puffy, Teddy had sustained several bruises all over his body, and poor little Oliver looked years older than he was. Peter’s condition was no better. Dark circles lined his under eyes from spending the night awake. Still they begrudgingly dragged their feet up the stairs to the main deck to begin their daily duties. Simon and Peter were halted by the captain’s booming voice. [b “Where in the bloody hell is Henry?! Henry!”] Teddy and Oliver who did not carry the burden of their counterpart’s dark secret went to work though. Peter clocked this and nudged Simon roughly in the ribs. [#228B22 “As I said,”] he muttered under his breath. [#228B22 “Act natural. Get to work.”] He could feel Simon tensing up beside him, but he stiffly made his way to the rigging in order to climb up and set to the task of unfurling the harnessed sails.

Meanwhile Peter approached the captain wearing a puzzled look. [#228B22 “Can’t find Henry?”] he asked nonchalantly. [#228B22 “Strange. I’ll ask around and see if anyone’s spotted him.”] He also wanted to ask the crew for his own intel. Although Simon claimed that no one had seen Henry go overboard after saving the boy, there was no guarantee that was the truth. The rain from the previous night was heavy and very easily could have cloaked someone from Simon’s view. Peter ambled about the ship, asking anyone in proximity whether or not they’d seen Henry. No one had. Not since the previous night. But everyone did notice his glaring absence. One pirate, Bill Jukes, admitted to seeing Henry running across the deck shortly after Hook had given the order for Peter’s crew to seek shelter, but he didn’t know where Henry was headed at the time. The redhead breathed a sigh of relief. No witnesses then. This unfortunate incident might truly stand a chance of blowing over when all was said and done.

The leader of the Lost Boys reported back to Hook once he’d finished questioning everyone on board. [#228B22 “Seems no one has seen him since last night, captain,”] he declared dutifully. He thought about suggesting that the taskmaster had fallen overboard, but that seemed too incriminating of a detail to bring up. Instead of taking the lead on this as the boy was so prone to do, it was best to sit back and follow orders. The mystery would eventually unravel itself instead. There was a sniffling overhead. Peter quickly glanced up and had to refrain from rolling his eyes as he watched Simon’s lackluster attempt to undo some of the knots holding the sails in place. Well… it would unravel itself provided that Simon did not give it away beforehand. In order to cover for Simon, Peter coughed into his elbow, overpowering the sound of the sniffs. [#228B22 “Is there someplace on board where Henry usually hangs about? I could check there if ya like.”]

Henry was a man who despised being late. Even on the Lord’s day he was the first to appear upon Deck when Hook was adamant about reading from the [i Good book.] This disappearing act wasn’t like him. Their friendship started back during the time with Her Majesty’s navy and the beautiful ship which they worked on was their home. Many times, they stood side by side battling the storm and feeling the rain beat down upon them. The thick and hairy sailor would always be sure to heave and Ho the hardest and catch those that had fallen down. Despite his coldness and reputation as the disciplinary in Hook’s ship, the man cared more for the crew then even the Captain did. Friendship, camaraderie, and discipline were the sum of his parts and it showed in everything which he did.

The love between the two Pirates was as wide as the night time sky. [b “No.. my boy..”] Hook spoke softly to Peter as he stared out at the ocean. Every Sailor knew that the sea was an unforgiving mistress. Davy Jones's locker was the final resting place for all Sailors who found themselves thrown overboard. Deep within the heart of the Pirate Captain, Hook knew that this was where his old friend had found himself. Walking away from the redhead, the cold-hearted man began to order his crew around by himself. Tomorrow was Sunday, the Lord’s day, and he wanted his ship to be clean and tidy before anyone was allowed to rest. There was no anger or disgust in his voice. Nor sadness of melancholiness. Instead there was only the booming voice of the Pirate Captain with a lot upon his mind.

As dusk began to settle in and most of the crew went below to rest, Hook stood above deck. Eyes stared out endlessly at the wide, blue sea which was becoming dark and black. He'd made a humble living for himself. Many of his other colleges had amassed wealth and controlled a fleet of Pirate ships. But coming from wealth, the man had no interested in monetary value besides what was necessary to survive out on this harsh sea.

The sea-salt sea smelled less sweat to the Hook. The air which he once loved breathing in, was suffocating. That cool touch of the wind was chilling and it made him feel a ache in his heart which he couldn’t quite get over.. His chest hurt. His eyes burnt.

[center [b Sunday.] ]

The sea was as silent as Mass when the Preacher told the congression to bow their heads. As Hook stood upon deck, he looked down at the crew who had gathered for the noon-day Mass. Well, it was pass noon. Hook had let the crew sleep in rather late today, and already it was a half hour past one. His mind was heavy and deep in thought. In his right hand was the bible by which had been sworn into the Queen’s Navy with. His partner and friend Henry had also touched that same bible and had taken the Same Oath as Hook. It was an abysmal scene and it filled the pirate Captain with even more strange emotions.

Coughing into his hands, he turned towards his right and beckoned the fat Irish man. Smee-with his rim spectacles, fat belly, and ruddies red skin-waddled his way beside the captain. It was a running joke that the Irishman was nothing more but a damn drunk, but in truth he’d never had a drop of alcohol. God’s honest truth. The man was just HAPPY! His heart was pure and he’d had been better suited to be a teacher or a babysitter then working as a cut-throat thief upon the seven Seas. Yet this was his lot in light and there was nothing which could change it,

As Smee waved at the crew Captain Hook reached for the whip which had been Henry’s It was black long cowhide with a leather braided handle. The crack was white and it’s length was alone eight inches. Enough to swing it around the ship and crack it loud or bring it down upon whoever was lazing about.

As Smee upon is hands to take the whip, he knew what this symbolic gesture meant. Smee was now the pirate’s right-hand man. He was his second in command. The converted position of first mate finally went to Smee. And as Hook pressed the whip in his hand the crew just stood there watching as the ceremonial “passing of the torch.” sort of ritual.

However Smee, being Smee, dropped the whip and bumbled about muttering an apology. As he bent down to pick up, his foot accidentally kick it and rolled it down towards the lower deck where no one dared touch it. Remembering how clumsy the chubby man was, Hook caught. [b “Maybe… it be best if ya don’t have the whip..”] He spoke and all throughout there was a mumble of agreement with him. And Smee nodded his head bumbling about a [i “Ye..ye.. Yer right ah, Cap’n.” ]

Opening the bible the Pirate captain spoke softly. [b “Henry, was a good man. A good sailor, and a good friend. He hated wasted time. This ship is big, but Henry is just bout damn bigger then this ship.” ] That brought laughter to the crew and even Hook chuckled surprisingly, Regain his composer hook started up again. [b “I know, that if Henry was here.. He’d told me to hurry it up and give you all your damn day off. He was always blunt telling it like it is. And today, Ima make this short. After we pray the “our father prayer” I’ll read from his favorite passage.. Now repat after me. ] Hook spoke closing his eyes.
As he did so the whole crew did and soon they began reciting the prayer which Jesus spoke long ago.
[center “Our father, who art in heaven. Hollowed by thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. And leads us not into temptation but deliver us from the evil. For thine is the kingdom, the glory, and the honor forever Amen.”]

Clearing his throat, Captain Hook open the bible and as he looked at his crew. “I’m not a preacher, so I don’t have a sermon. Only this, which Henry quoted day in and day out. ‘Psalm 23; The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.’ Truth is crew, I’m not a religious name. I just read the bible on Sunday’s cause its the tradition that started whilst we were all apart of the royal Navy. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or hell. But I know that a good man like Henry, ought to be in Heaven.”

With that the crew mumbled and spoke. A hush silence fell over the crew before another crewmember began to burst out into song. [#E640BB “What the fuck do ya do with a drunken sailor, th’fuck ya do wit’ a drunken sailor? What to do with a drunken sailor Early in the morning!”]

It was crude and loud and boisterous. Yet, whenever Henry got drunk he’d shout this song at the top of his lungs. Despite how discipline a sailor he was, rum made any good pirate lost his wits. And with that, the whole crew began to join in with the crude version. As the crew began singing it louder and louder in memory of Henry Hook’s ears redden, then he suddenly started laughing and began to bellow out the words as loud as he could as well. [b “We shave his gut with a rusty razor, shave his gut with a rusty razor, shave his gut with a razor rusty, early in da fuckin morning!”]

As the crew sat about singing loudly and remembering Henry, Hook decided to bring out the rum and sugar so that the crew could have some Bumbo. As he went down below deck, he order the cook to come back out and give the crew some rum and he was all too happy.

As rum was poured and the crew mourned and celebrated the life of Henry, one of the pirates walked over to Peter and thrust him a cup full of rum, sugar and water. [#0F39B6 “Ey, you. The Pan boy! You look like you old’nuff to drink! Here ya go! Let’s pound down a glass of Rum for ol’ Bastard Henry!”] Drunk, he toasted Peter’s cup with his own and drunk his own glass of Rum, before setting it down. He had brought six mugs of Rum, and he intended each of them to drink three full cups of it.

[#0F39B6 “Since yer the leader of ya crew, and they to young to drink! Ya gotta drink their ration for ‘em!”] As the drunk pirate flush and gave Peter a grin, soon a gaggle of pirates joined and began to chant. “Drink Pan drink! Drink Pan drink! Drink Pan drink!”] As the pirate crew chant and watched for what the boy would do, Hook was in his cabin with Smee

Since Smee didn’t drink and Hook was to the captain, the pair were busy trying down the Wasps. They were close to it.. And they both believed that the day after next they’d find the ship

Peter’s eyes followed the captain as he turned on his heel and began to take over the task of supervising the crew. The man acted as if nothing had happened, as if nothing could perturb him. But the softness of his voice after he spoke to Peter gave more away than this professional façade. Peter pitied the man. This was a shocking revelation for him to admit to himself. He was always so wrapped up in his own problems or taking care of the Lost Boys that there was little room in his underdeveloped mind for useless things such as sympathy. Yet there he stood watching Hook having to force his emotions about his lost friend down in order to keep the ship running, and Peter felt bad about what happened. Bad about what he actively covered up.

The rest of the day Peter set about working harder than he ever had before. Perhaps it was to shake the cloud of guilt hovering over his head. Or it could have been a way of making subliminal amends to Hook regarding his loss. Either way the redhead was spotted busying himself in nearly every corner of the ship. He cleaned the captain’s quarters until the polished wood shone with his own reflection. He took inventory and organized the entirety of the armory. He lent a hand in the kitchen, cutting prep time by about half. He even took on the revolting task of emptying the crew’s chamber pots below deck.

By the time he was finished running around, the sun had well made its descent past the horizon giving way to dusk. The boy never felt the weight of his sleep deprivation from the night before while he was working off pure momentum all day, but now his eyelids were heavy and his body sluggish. With a sleepy exaggerated yawn, Peter began to make his way below deck to the crew’s quarters. Before he descended, however, he caught a glimpse of the captain standing at the helm. His eyes were trained on the massive expanse of sea before them. He looked over his shoulder in the direction where Hook gazed. There was nothing to see. Peter looked once more toward the captain. His facial expression was hard to make out from this distance, but his body looked stiff, unmoving. The boy debated going over to say something. But what could he possibly say? What comfort could he offer? That pang of guilty sent a chill through his body again. He ignored it though and decided that the captain was best left alone with his thoughts.

When he returned to his hammock, he saw that once again Simon remained awake while the others slept. He sighed and asked tentatively, [#228B22 “You alright?”] The blond boy nodded but did not respond. [#228B22 “Well, it’s like I said: this is all about to blow over anyways. I saw Hook just now. I think he knows what happened.”] At the sudden widening of Simon’s eyes, he quickly continued, [#228B22 “I just mean he knows that Henry’s dead, s’all. Not that you did it.”] Simon winced at this bluntness. Peter was worried that he might start up crying again, but the other boy’s eyes were dry. Maybe he had no more tears left. Peter clapped a hand to his shoulder and offered him a half smile. [#228B22 “Cheer up, Simon. It’ll be okay. Try and get some rest, yeah?”] Though he still didn’t offer up anything to say, he leaned sideways and laid down. Peter clambered into his own hammock and plopped into it with a heavy sigh of relief. In spite of the scratchy material and surrounding snores of fellow crewmen, sleep took him almost instantly.

To say that Peter was grateful for the late start next morning would have been an understatement. Extreme fatigue from two consecutive days of hard labor finally caught up to him. He slept deeply that night. It took the Lost Boys a total of five minutes to rouse him when they were called to Mass. When they finally managed to get him up, the physical toll of the previous days also made itself known. He was sore and aching all over his body, the muscles tight and tense. Still, he managed to hobble his way to the congregational meeting with the rest of the crew.

The Lost Boys had never been to church before. They had a bare bone understanding of religion, but there was never much of it enforced in their orphanage. They didn’t even have Christmas. Brooks, their caretaker, looked down on the concept. He was convinced that it was a ridiculous thing to ask for a better lot in life to imaginary sky dwellers rather than facing problems head on. The bitter old man constantly countered religious boys with the same sneering statement, [#D2691E [i “If your god loves you so much, how do you suppose you ended up here?”]] Which, in Peter’s opinion, was a fair point. He himself didn’t really have an opinion one way or another on the subject. If anything, he, along with the other boys, did show mild interest in the proceedings of the church. Even if it was only out of pure curiosity.

Together, they watched with polite attentiveness as Hook ceremoniously passed the torch, so to speak, to Smee. Well, more or less. The captain ended up keeping the whip on account of the Irishman’s clumsiness. That was likely for the best though. Then, the captain began his eulogy on Henry. Peter felt Simon tensing up by his side and stepped on his toes with the sole of his shoe. Simon grimaced at the sudden burst of pain, shooting the redhead a dirty look, but did nothing else. They continued to sit respectfully as the crew recited the Lord’s Prayer. The boys mumbled along as best they could, but it was very clear that they did not know the words. They shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed, wondering if anyone had noticed their blunders. Instead, a strong and steady shout of song came from the back of the room. All four boys jumped, swiveling in their chairs to try and see the singer. Suddenly the whole of the crew began to take up the song. For the second time in a span of minutes, the orphans found themselves at the center of a unison where they did not know the words. But this was far less solemn. The volume began to swell as the crew all leapt to their feet to bellow the classic sea shanty. Soon enough drinks and food began to circle the room, raising spirits as well as the raucous energy of the crew.

[#228B22 “C’mon, let’s go,”] Peter muttered to the other three boys. Seeing as the lads barely knew Henry before his demise, he thought it best that they take their leave. Better for his life to be celebrated by those who truly knew him. Before they reached the door, however, Peter was stopped by one of the drunker crewmates. The man shoved a mug into his hands, encouraging him to drink up on Henry’s behalf. Peter hesitated. He didn’t want to insult a dead man’s memory by refusing the offer, but it also smelled horrendous. Sensing his reluctance, the crew all began to take up a chant, pressuring him to down the alcohol. Putting on a brave face, Peter cast a cautious glance at the other Lost Boys and tossed back the entirety of the concoction. Then it came right back up.

The poor boy sputtered and choked as the alcohol stung his throat. The stuff burned so bad that it cleared out his sinuses and brought watery tears to his eyes. Bellowing laughter echoed around the crew as a couple of the men patted him on the back bracingly. Peter doubled over with his hands on his knees still coughing, but also laughing in spite of himself. [#228B22 “God! That stuff’s awful,”] he exclaimed as he straightened up and wiped the tears from his eyes. [#228B22 “It’s worse than medicine,”] he informed the boys who looked at him with concern. Understanding dawned in their eyes. Medicine was the foulest thing any child could have the misfortune of taking. It was a thick syrup with a sickly sweetness that was more than enough to make anyone gag. Despite this comparison however, Peter swiped up the next mug of Bumbo. [#228B22 “Best to get it over with quickly then!”] The men all cheered.

The next two servings went down easier than the first over the course of the next half hour. Not by much, but enough. He was able to keep both down at least. However, with such a small frame and next to nothing in his stomach for the day, the alcohol took hold of the boy very quickly indeed. A consistent buzzing made his head swim dizzyingly. And although the boy was stationary, he felt as though he were rocking worse than when the storm tried to overtake the Jolly Roger. Some of the crew took note of the youngster’s state and were kind enough to force feed him some stale bread and a heavy stew, but it was clear he’d already passed the point of no return. There was little the food could do to help him now in terms of sopping up the alcohol; it was already swimming in his blood.

[#228B22 “Wha d’ya do wit a drunken sailor, wha d’ya do wit a drunken sailor? Wha th’[i fuck] d’ya do wit a drunken sailor early in da moooorn-ing!”] He seemed to have a decent grasp on the words now. Sort of. Peter was smiling from ear to ear, his cheeks burning bright red, as he made merry with the rest of the crew. His eyes were glazed over, only half open as he swayed dangerously on the spot. Someone had the good sense to catch him by the upper arm before he toppled face first onto the floor.
[+mediumaquamarine “Oi! What happened with the lad’s crew? They ought to be getting him back, I think,”] said the man with a laugh. Simon, Teddy, and Oliver left shortly after Peter started drinking, however. Since they were too young to participate there wasn’t much sense for them to stick around.
[#228B22 “I don need’ta be goin’ nowhere,”] snapped Peter, wrenching him arm out of the other man’s grasp. He stumbled from the momentum but managed to seat himself in a nearby chair. [#228B22 “Juss gimme ‘nother drink instead why don’tcha!”] A mug passed through several hands, making its way over to Peter, but the older pirate stopped it before it reached him. [#228B22 “Hey - !”]
[+mediumaquamarine “I think you’ve had enough, lad.”] The man still smiled and laughed, but there was a finality to his tone that suggested he ought to be obeyed. [+mediumaquamarine “Trust me, you don’t wanna go drinking too much. You’ll be awful sore in the morning for it.”]
[#228B22 “Don go tellin’ me wha ta do.”] Peter stood from his chair, drawing himself up to his full height. There was a collective round of [i ooohs] from the nearby onlookers.

The two had a brief standoff where neither one of them moved. Then Peter suddenly lunged forward to make a grab for the mug of rum. The pirate easily sidestepped out of the way, sending the boy careening into the crowd observers. They caught him, all laughing and jeering before flinging him back toward the older man. [+mediumaquamarine “Quit bein’ stubborn, boy.”]
[#228B22 “Jus gimme the drink!”] Again, he lunged forward. The pirate sidestepped once more, but Peter was ready for the move this time. Rather than continuing forward he spun on the balls of his feet to switch direction and followed the man’s movement. In a move of surprising speed while in his drunken state, the boy grabbed the mug in one hand while simultaneously twisting the wrist of the man with the other to get him to let go. Once he released the drink, Peter quickly got out of the way of his follow up swipe and this time it was the pirate who stumbled into the crowd. The redhead let out a victorious cry which the crew immediately took up as well. He then brought the mug to his lips, ready to down his fourth helping of the day, but with a violent swat the older pirate sent the cup spiraling to the floor instead.
[+mediumaquamarine “Now I said that’s enough.”] This clearly wasn’t about the drink anymore, though. The man didn’t want to be shown up and made a fool by a drunken child. Peter smirked in his classic cocky fashion. He didn’t intend to get under the man’s skin, but it was always fun to piss off an adult.
[#228B22 “An’ I said I wan ‘nother drink.”] Another mug made its way to the front. While it would have been wiser to put a stop to the rising tension, the crew was far more eager to see a fight break out. They were, after all, just as drunk. Peter took a hold of his new helping of rum, swirling the contents around slowly, tauntingly.
[+mediumaquamarine “I’m warning ya, lad. Don’t. I’m tryin’ to look after ya. Don’t make me hurt ya to do it.”]
[#228B22 “Don need no one lookin’ afta me! I get along juss fine, thanks.”]
[+mediumaquamarine “Look, you may think you’re grown, but –”]
[#228B22 [i “I ain’t grown!”]] Peter shouted, infuriated.
[+mediumaquamarine “Aight, so put the rum down then. ‘Cuz that there’s for grown-ups, ya know.”]
Peter considered his cup with a slack jawed expression. He didn’t want to be drinking some grown-up swill, but he also didn’t want to be told what to do by some random crewmate who wasn’t even captain. Hell, Peter couldn’t even remember the man’s name. What authority did he have to call the shots? [#228B22 “Fine,”] he mumbled, still staring at the full mug. [#228B22 “You wanna have my drink s’bad? Takkit.”] With that, the boy launched the alcohol all over the man in front of him.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. The older man stood dumbstruck and now soaking wet. All the other pirates surrounding them held their breath, not daring to intervene. Then without warning the man charged at Peter like a bull. Two hard blows landed smack dab into Peter’s face. The first hit him right on the nose. There was a sickening crack and blood immediately spurted all down his front. The second came from the side, dislodging the right side of his jaw. The boy stumbled over, falling onto the unforgiving ground. Stars were dancing in front of his eyes from the force of impact while the edges of his vision began to darken. He gave his head a shake in an attempt to clear it just as the man descended upon him again. Mustering up his strength, Peter slid his body backwards between the pirate’s open legs. With all his might, Peter kicked the man in the ass as he was doubled over, and he went down with a mighty crash. The man’s head had collided with a table on the way down and he looked just as dazed as Peter felt. Egged on by the many cheers of the bystanders, Peter leapt on top of the downed man’s chest effectively knocking the air out of him. He used his legs to pin the pirate’s arms to his sides while he in turn rained punches down on the man’s face. Now, one punch from a child could hardly do any damage. Several fueled by rage and alcohol, however, began to bruise and bloody the skin.

Once the older man was able to regain his breath, he violently bucked Peter off his chest. The man regained his feet and towered over the kid on the ground. He delivered a swift kick to Peter’s ribs, making the boy curl up in agonizing pain. Readying another kick, he drew his foot back. This time when it connected, however, Peter latched onto it tightly with the entirely of his body enclosed around the pirate’s leg. Shocked by this move, the man stumbled backwards and seizing his moment, Peter sank his teeth into the exposed skin of his calf. It was dirty fighting, true, but it was clear the boy wouldn’t be able to win this on brute strength alone. The older man howled in pain, trying to beat the boy off his leg. The more punches Peter took, however, the tighter his teeth clamped down. He could feel the warm metallic taste of blood on his tongue now. It was difficult to tell whether it was his own pouring from his nose or the pirate’s coming out of his leg. Finally, the man caught hold of Peter by the scruff of the neck and managed to yank him off. He hoisted the boy up off the ground so that he was face to face with him. Just as he was about to sink another punch full on to Peter’s face, the redhead brought his legs up to his chest and extended them forcefully into the man’s face instead. The pirate dropped Peter to the ground using his hands to double over and clutch his aching visage. Peter scrambled to his feet, using a nearby table as a means of support. There was a mug resting on its surface and the boy gripped the wooden container tightly before bringing it down hard over the back of the man’s head. It must have hit a pressure point because the older man’s body jerked before crumpling to the ground.

The boy stood over the man victorious and panting heavily. He wiped a combination of blood, sweat, and spit from his lips. If he didn’t need the drink before, he definitely needed one now. That was when he noticed the silence. Where once there was wild cheering all the men had now hushed and were eerily still. For a moment, Peter supposed he had simply impressed them too much with his fighting skills. As he turned, however, he saw the reason for their restraint. Hook stood at the edge of the crowd, watching Peter with a look he couldn’t read. The fight must have caused the noise to swell then carry out to the deck outside, alerting the captain. Exhausted from the fight, Peter was for once speechless. The adrenaline had burned off a good deal of the alcohol in his system, so he didn’t even get the escape of having to face the captain while drunk. The boy swallowed hard and averted his eyes to the ground. [#228B22 “Sorry,”] was all he could manage.

Hook beckoned the boy to follow him out. Peter grit his teeth and did as he was told. The crew parted for them like the Red Sea, their eyes boring into them both. He limped as he walked and cradled his ribs gingerly. The pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to the creeping dread that he could feel rising in the pit of his stomach. Peter felt like he had disappointed the captain. It was an odd feeling for him because no one had ever expected anything of him to begin with. And now, what was to be his punishment? Flogging? Stockades? Death, even? He hoped if it was the latter he'd at least get to say one final goodbye to his Lost Boys. Simon would have to look out for them from then on and, honestly, if that were the case they'd all be doomed too. When the pair reached the captain's quarters, Peter entered first with Hook following and shutting the door behind them. He kept his eyes trained to the ground, waiting for the pirate captain to make the first move.

[i “Geez, Cap’n y-y-you Think that we’ll be able to head em off in Cuba?”]
Peering over the map which was sprawled between the two, the chubby irish man adjusted his spectacles as he looked upon the map. It seemed as though they were getting closer and closer to capturing the elusive ship known as “The wasp” day by day. And as Hook nodded his head leaning back against his chair he nodded in agreement. Smee hadn’t told the cruel yet that Land had been spotted. The coast of Cuba was just nothing more than a rock throw away. It wouldn’t be long before the were on Spanish control territory and the prize which they sought out would finally, finally be there’s. Reaching for his cigar, Hook was about to light up and enjoy a celebratory smoke before his door busted open and one of his crew mates came barreling in.

[b “Jesus H Christ! Ain’t a man owed a smoke in peace!”] The voice of the captain bellowed out as he looked at the man whom was interrupting his celebratory smoke. Fumbling about the older Pirate took off his hat and stood there huffing and puffing. It was clear that he'd come here in a hurry and he had something of great importance to say. Staring him down the Pirate captain looked at him as his facial expression hardened. Hook was never one to interrupt at a time like this, and so as the man fidgeted around and waited to explain himself to the pirate captain, Hook waved his hand and finally allowed the man to speak. [i “I’m.. Sorry Captain! But, they got that kid you took drunk! And now he’s a fightin’ wit another Pirate!”]

[b “YOU WHAT!!”] Hook shouted as he dropped his cigar. The last thing which he wanted to deal with on his tightly run ship, was a drunken child. The very thought of that red-headed laddie run amock whilst drunk made Hook grow red hot with envy and instantly he was storming out of his room. As soon as he left the confines of his quarters, he could hear the sounds of his pirate crew cheering and jeering. The unmistaken sound of blows being landed added a percussive element to the myriad of drunken voices which were being lifted up in the late afternoon sky. However, as Hook began to push himself past the crew, those voices filled with cheering and jeering soon turned silent. Like the red sea, the crew began to part as Hook made his way towards the boy who found himself pounding away at the senior Pirate.

It didn’t take long for the Red-headed boy to feel ashamed of his actions. As he looked at the pirate Captain he bowed his head and offered an apology. Jerking his head towards his own cabin, Hook ordered him to follow him. But before he could, the older one spoke up on Peter’s behalf. Asking Hook to not be too rough on the boy and that he was partly to blame for egging him on. Taking note, Hook stayed silent as he brought Peter back towards his cabin.

Smee was sitting there waiting for them. Of course, the chubby male felt bad for how dinge up the boy looked. A part of him wanted to offer Peter some Hot cider and a blanket, but Hook would have none of that. Giving the irish man a stern look, the captain made Smee leave and as he turned towards the door and close it, the pair was alone. The dark and sinister man and the proud and insolence youth were once more alone face to face. Sitting down behind his chair, the male reached for his cigar and said nothing. He only lit it and took a puff on it. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the sensation of the smoke filling his mouth and exhaling it. It gave him a nice buzz and as he repeated the process of puffing on the cigar, he turned towards his very young cabin boy and gave him an expression which couldn’t quite be deciphered. Was he mad at him? Or was he proud that the boy had somewhat held his own in a fight against an experienced Pirate? One couldn’t be sure.

[b “Well my boy… You’ve learned how to clean like a pirate. You can think like a Pirate, and today ya’ learn how to drink and brawl like a pirate…”] Pausing the male once more took a long drag from his cigar. He hummed to himself as he enjoyed the sensation of it. The cigar truly did hit the spot. Turning upon Peter he spoke to the male softly. [b “The day after tomorrow, we’re going to be making land at Cuba. We found that “the Wasps” will be stopping there to resupply before sailing back to Spain. To bad they won’t be making it there. No, I want you to lead your crew onboard that ship and cause mayhem and destruction. We’re be following behind the ship closely and as soon as ya done, give us a single and we’ll hit em hard and fast..”]

In the end Hook wasn’t mad at either Peter or the crew member that started the brawl. No, the Pirate Captain figured that it was healthy to fight at Sea once in a while. However, that didn’t stop him from limiting their rations. The next day Peter and the Pirate ate nothing. Hook felt bad to tell Peter that he would be starved the day before he and his crew would be ask to sneak onto land but there was nothing more that the Pirate Captain could do for him expect warn him to be on his best behavior and wish him good luck and godspeed.

[right [pic https://i.pinimg.com/236x/5b/3d/71/5b3d71837c5ff0a23e3720df24c17564--pirate-art-pirate-woman.jpg ] ]

[i “You DARE! Insult me by calling this clean! You filthy, fuckin-dog!”] Kicking over the bucket of warm water and soap, Javier Canales was not amused by the dirtiness of which was on the deck of “The Wasps.” They were due to sail back to Spain as soon as they had picked up fresh water and other provisions for their journey. For several months, they’ve been on the Asia coast attacking and sinking Pirate ships. Singapore was quite a beautiful country, but the pirate Captain had had his fill of being around Heathens who didn’t know that Jesus Christ was lord.

The Spanish Captain walked his ship with a wooden handle which had a single piece of knotted rope attached to it. He ran a tight ship and any sea-dog which wasn’t cleaning hard enough of fast enough would feel the sting of his impromptu whip. Turning upon his heel, the Pirate Captain found some else that was slacking, and instantly he brought down his whip upon the man. He let out a painful scream, which earned him an even swift kick to the face by his captain. Canales believed that a Captain was elected by God himself. Therefore he ought to rule his ship by fear and an iron fish. The Wasp was a hefty ship which had several decks. The Top one held several masts which allowed the ship to fly faster upon the water.

As the ship was docked in Cuba, the Spanish Naval Captain thought that now would be more then perfect to clean the ship. And as he walked to the helm of the ship he barked out loudly so that all of his crew could hear him. [i “Not A single one of you will leave this ship til I deem it clean! You want your rum, your women, to spend the Gold which was hard earn and fought, then clean! Or I swear to God, you’ll be flogged. I’ll see to it that every single of you is flogged!”] If the thought of sinking themselves in between the thighs of a woman didn’t spur them on to clean faster and more efficiently then it was the Captain’s promise of having each and every one of them flogged which did the trick.

Javier wasn’t scared at all to bring out the velvet bag. He’d had a sailor flogged for falling asleep during night watch. He had a sailor flogged for being drunk. He had a sailor flogged for wearing an unkept uniform. He had a sailor flogged for forgetting to address him as Captain Canales. He had a sailor flogged simply for calling him Javier. Javier Canales was a strict taskmaster. Yet his success was legendary. He’d rose through the ranks quickly and now he was the King’s most beloved and trusted navy Captain. Which Explained why he got the privilege to sail the Wasps on her maiden voyage which was the envy of most.

By nightfall, the crew had finished cleaning the ship to the satisfaction of the captain. As he ran a finger along a wooden banister and held it up to his face he nodded. There wasn’t even a single speck of dust and he finally gave the crew permission to head down towards the Port and finally enjoy land.

The next day, Javier was up and about walking the port of Cuba with his eyes looking over all which was going to be boarded upon his ship. Cuba was dangerously close to Jamaica and he knew that there would be pirates looking to attack the Wasps. Little did they know that his ship packed several cannons on each side. And a special Ball which had chains which were designed to take down Masts. As the Navy Captain looked over the barrels he let out a content smile. This was going to be his last trip out to sea for a while. He planned on settling down in Spain and enjoy life with his gorgeous wife with whom he’d been married to for quite some time now.

While Javier was a Christian man and was faithful only to his wife, the Asain women at Singapore had been too much for him to resist. For several weeks he’d brought back a slew of prostitutes to enjoy for him and his crew and oftentimes he found himself doing the most whilst in the midst of debauchery. He felt dirty. It had been a year since his last confessional and as soon as he left the ship unattended he went to the local catholic church in order to confess his sins. A shame really, had he not been so preoccupied with wanting to confess his sins he’d had notice that a certain Pirate ship had docked next to his and were conveniently flying the Spanish colors.

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[b Land-Ho! Land-Ho!”]
The sound of Land being found wasn’t enough to wake the groggy which were mostly still hung-over despite it being two days since they’ve drunk. As the port of Cuba was seen in the distance, Hook ordered his crew to fly the Spanish colors so that they’d be welcome as friend instead of foe. His spanish was rusty and it needed work, but the Pirate captain was still able to fumble through a conversation if he needed to be. The Spanish were a very religious and catholic lot which enjoyed acting pious even when they were busy doing things which couldn’t possibly be consider “pious” or righteous indeed. Still, Hook digress.

Taking Peter by the shoulders the moment they had reached port, he handed him the spyglass and pointed him within the general direction of their prized ship which they’d been seeking and wanting to find for weeks. [i The wasps.] Hook had heard of how beautifully crafted it was. And indeed, it was something which made him envious. Not to downplay the beauty of Jolly Rogers. The French vessel had been Hook’s pride and joy. The fact that the pirate Captain could’ve had any other ship to begin his Pirate career and he chose this one spoke to the fact that he truly did find the Jolly Roger captivating but there was always time for change. Change never hurt anyone and it was more than important for the Pirate Captain to let go and accept said fact.

As the crew laid anchored and prepared the ship to be docked, there was an anxiousness about them all. Tortuga wasn’t far from Cuba at all, and since most of them didn’t know a lick of spanish, they’d rather be on their home turf instead of here where things were foreign and strange to them. However, Hook insisted that this would be well worth the wait and encouraged them all to keep up the good fight and that the prize which they’d sought would indeed be theirs before the week’s end!

[b “What do’ya think? Ain’t she a beaut?”] Hook spoke as he stood atop of his deck eyeing The Wasp. The Spanish ship had numerous cannons on her. Her fire power way outnumber that of The Jolly Roger, so to try and face her head on was a suicide mission which Hook wasn’t prepare to embark on. Which was why he and Peter were scheming on how to get the Lost boys onto said ship. Despite never seeing the ship before in his life, Hook knew very well who captain it. Javier Canales was a notorious Pirate Hunter. He took pride in capturing Pirates and he was known to hang them from the Mask and display them triumphantly for weeks at a time. Many Pirates had made it their personal mission to return the favor and Hang the Spanish Captain from his own mask as he’d done so many others, but so far all which had personally gone after him had ended up dead and strung up as trophies.

This was the most dangerous thing hook and his crew were trying to accomplished but ah, the reward, the reward was ever so sweet. [b “Do you think you and ya crew could sneak aboard The Wasp and cause a distraction? If ya havin’ second thoughts then be honest and let me know so that we can pull out now and head towards Jamaica. Ain’t no sense in risking a fool’s gambit.”]

Peter winced instinctively when Hook began speaking. He was used to being shouted at, demeaned, or beaten whenever he got into trouble at the orphanage. Surprisingly, the captain did none of the above. If anything, his voice was an even lower level than it usually was, almost a soft whisper. The redhead dared to make eye contact with the captain as soon as the man mentioned The Wasp.

So, it was going to be back to business as usual. Peter felt almost giddy at this stroke of luck. Here he had been on the verge of vomiting thinking of his punishment, but by the looks of things he wasn’t going to receive any at all! The boy straightened himself up to his full height beaming. [#228B22 “We’ll give ‘em hell, Cap’n,”] he said confidently. The boy was about to make his exit, when Hook also mentioned that he would have limited rations the following day. Ah, so [i there] was the punishment. He should have known it was too good to be true to get off scot-free. Still, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been starved before. That much would be easy enough to endure again. Given the circumstances he still considered himself lucky.

When he was dismissed, Peter made his way back to the cabins below deck. It was probably best that he stay away from any more drinking. Even as he ambled along, he could feel the beginning twinge of a headache arising. It was difficult to say whether that was from the alcohol or the fight, however. The scream that tiny Oliver gave out when he saw Peter certainly didn’t help it either.
[#EE82EE [i “Peter!] What’s happened to your face?!”] Oliver asked, concerned. He rose to his feet along with the other two boys, all of their mouth agape as they stared wide-eyed at their leader.
[#228B22 “S’nothing,”] Peter mumbled in response, swiping the back of his hand across his nose. It came back bloody. He rubbed the stain off on his trousers. [#228B22 “Just had a little spat is all. You ought to see the other guy.”] With a hollow laugh, Peter collapsed into the nearest hammock. He sucked in a sharp breath of pain as he made contact; everything felt so sore and tender. Simon immediately went to go fetch him a glass of water which he gratefully downed in a single gulp.
[#4169E1 “You sure you’re alright?”]
[#228B22 “Always am. ‘Sides, the fight ain’t what’s important. I got something to tell you lot.”]

Peter went on to tell the lads about their assigned task as distractors for the takeover of The Wasp. His excitement about it wasn’t exactly mirrored by the rest of his crew though. They feared the worst. It was a dangerous task and the equivalent of being the first wave in a war – something that almost always ensured death. Peter, however, had a different outlook. This assignment was a great opportunity, and one where their success was almost handed to them on a silver platter. The Lost Boys were a pain in the ass to more than a few fair shares of adults; this was a skill that might have well been sewn into the very fabric of their being. All they’d need to do is implement that on a larger scale. Then, after they were victorious, they’d be hailed as heroes. And Peter, never one to skip out on being praised, very much wanted that glory.

The boys spent the rest of that day as well as the following one with their heads pressed closely together, deliberating their plan of attack. By the time the shores of Cuba were in sight, they had fine tuned all the necessary details. Peter stood on deck with Hook, peering through the spyglass at their target. It was a ship that was masterfully crafted and downright awe-inspiring. [#228B22 “Yeah, a beaut,”] Peter agreed, handing the spyglass back to the captain. He looked taken aback for a moment when Hook offered him a last minute out from the plan. What, did the man not think that he and his crew could do it anymore? [#228B22 “No one’s having second thoughts save for you, sounds like,”] he joked with a laughing scoff. [#228B22 “Leave it to us. You’ll have my signal within the hour.”]

With that, Peter left Hook to gather up the other Lost Boys. They confirmed the plan one final time and wished one another good luck. Peter didn’t think they’d need luck to win the day, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. The four boys began to scale the rigging of the topmost mast on the Jolly Roger. Simon instructed them along the way of where the best hand and foot hold were. Once they reached the top, he secured some lines tightly around each of their wrists and hands. Well, all except Oliver. Instead, he simply rode on Peter’s back, his small hands clasped tightly around the redhead’s neck.

[#4169E1 “Now remember, you’ve got to get enough momentum to carry the swing through. Otherwise, you’ll just come swinging back this way. If that happens, you might not have enough leverage to secure yourself and could end up dangling over there.”] Simon motioned to the space of water in between the two ships. If any of them ended up there they’d easily fall, and either be pulled underwater or crushed. [#4169E1 “So watch what I do first and follow my lead.”] The blonde boy took a deep breath and began to sprint across the length of the beam. Just as he reached the edge, he tucked his legs up into his abdomen and swung into the air. High above the heads of the meandering crew aboard The Wasp, no one noticed when the young boy perched gracefully within the rigging on board. He undid the line around his hands and sent it swinging back to the neighboring ship, the Jolly Roger. Simon gave them a thumbs up and motioned for them to come over too.
[#228B22 “Alright Teddy, now you. Off you get.”]
But Teddy shook his head nervously. [#B22222 “I dunno, Peter. Lemme see it again first.”]
[#228B22 “Suit yourself, mate.”] Peter gripped his rope tightly, steeling himself to make the jump. [#228B22 “You holding on, Oliver?”]
[#EE82EE “Uh-huh!”]
[#228B22 “Here we go!”] Peter charged down the beam same as Simon. When he got the to edge, he lifted his feet up and was sent soaring through the sky. Wind rushed up his shirt, and there was an exhilarating coolness to its touch. A broad smile broke across his face as a feeling of pure weightlessness overtook him. Just as quickly as it had started, however, as he reached the apex of the swing, he began to slow. Peter managed to grab onto the rigging of The Wasp and secure both himself and Oliver, setting the boy down. The three all had to stifle their own giggling; they were extremely pleased with themselves. They looked back to Teddy who still stood hesitating on the Jolly Roger. The boys motioned to him frantically to come over. Either emboldened or peer pressured by his friends, the plump boy came running across the beam as well. But something was wrong.


[#228B22 “He’s not gonna make it,”] Peter whispered in horror. And indeed, Teddy had not gained nearly enough speed to swing off the beam as the other boys had done. He faltered and stumbled, almost falling rather than jumping off. [#228B22 “Quick, quick, gimme some rope!”] Simon handed Peter some and the redhead quickly tied a big, thick knot at the end of it. As Teddy neared the apex of his swing, still some ten yards away from the rigging, Peter chucked the knotted rope at the boy. [#228B22 [i “Grab it, Teddy!”]] Despite the panic on Teddy’s face, he managed to grab hold of the knotted end just as he was beginning to fall back toward the Jolly Roger. Gritting his teeth, Peter dug his heels into the ropes holding him in place and Simon and Oliver did the same with some of the slackened rope behind him. His bruised ribs cried out in protest at the effort, but he did not loosen his grip. Together, the three of them managed to hoist Teddy’s weight back in the direction of The Wasp. When he was close enough, Peter grabbed the scruff of his shirt and yanked him into the rigging with the other Lost Boys. [#228B22 “Teddy…you [i idiot,”]] Peter hissed as he panted heavily.
[#B22222 “I-I’m sorry! I told you I didn’t know bout it, it was so scary and all! I-I—“]
[#228B22 “Forget it. Let’s just get to work, yeah?”]

The boys split up and began to scale down the rigging, careful not to draw too much attention to themselves as they snuck around the deck of the ship. Peter headed off in the direction of the stern. Once he reached the back, largely the most unoccupied space on board, he dug in the pocket of his trousers and withdrew a small pouch. Carefully, the boy dumped some of the contents onto the wooden floor. It was gunpowder. From his other pocket came a single match. A quick strike and spark later, and there was a brilliantly bright blaze sending up a small cloud of smoke.

There were shouts from the other end of The Wasp, the crew were alarmed at the sight. Thundering footsteps began to head toward the redhead, but he did not retreat from them. Just as quickly as the flame had roared to life, it began to sputter and die. Without the contained space of a gun or canon, there was little where else for the excess gas to build up and explode. The smoke dissipated, but another pillar arose from the bow. Simon had ignited the next pile. There was a confused scrambling of footsteps as the crew rerouted themselves toward the source of this new flame. But the same thing happened yet again. Just before they could reach the fire, Teddy had started another. Before they could reach that one, Oliver ignited his. The crew were running themselves ragged trying to keep up with the seemingly random fires cropping up across the deck. A perfect distraction that not only kept them occupied, but also tired them out quickly. With a smirk, Peter left Simon, Teddy, and Oliver to it while he meanwhile climbed back up the main mast of the ship. Once he reached the top, he gave the Spanish flag a mighty tug and ripped it from its holster. It fluttered lamely downward. This was the signal. Peter looked triumphantly toward the Jolly Roger, eager to see the pirate crew storming the ship from such a choice vantage point.

If only Javier hadn’t been racked with guilt….
If only he’d hadn’t been frolicing with those whores in Asia!
Than he’d had been able to tell his crew what do when his ship was taken!

Clasping Peter hard on the back, Captain Hook smiled triumphantly as he stood at the Helm of the Wasps. His newly elected first Mate Mister Smee was ordering half of his crew to set sail on the Jolly Roger, whilst Hook and the orphans, and the other half of the crew were walking the deck of the newly captured and held Wasps. The bloody battle to capture the Wasps was over ten lest than half an hour. It seemed as though most of the crew had been ashore and the Captain, Javier, wasn’t anywhere in sight! Rolling the ship out of the harbour he unfurled the massive sails and set a course from Cuba towards Jamaica where their haul could be properly assessed and accounted for.

The ship was an absolutely beauty, almost on par with the French vessel. Though this one had a smaller kitchen, the rations found within it were to be expected. The only thing missing was the Rum and other alcoholic beverages with a Pirate loved to drink upon the Seven Seas, but other than that all was accounted for As Hook wiped the smeared blood off of his cutlass, he raised it above hand which led to the cheering of the crew. Now, all there was left to do was head towards Jamaica.

Peter cheered victoriously along with the rest of the crew as the ship began to set sail under new management. Though the bloody battle was over, a surplus of adrenaline still raced through Peter’s veins. Like drums of war, his heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears and encouraged him to march proudly to its cadence around the deck of the magnificent Wasp. Bloodstains splattered the boy’s face and clothes, but he looked as though he’d never been happier.  Chest puffed out and a grin stretching from ear to ear, Peter arched his back and let out a mighty crow at the top of his lungs. The Lost Boys mimicked their leader, tossing their heads back and screeching out into the heavens above. They were four balls of unbridled energy and joy. It was arguably better than being drunk.

[#228B22 “What’d I tell ya, cap’n?!”] he exclaimed with a laugh. [#228B22 “I said leave it to me and my crew – that we could handle it – and boy did we ever! Did you see us? Oh, you should’ve seen us! We was flying over their heads and all, they didn’t know what hit ‘em! And-and then the explosives just firing off along the deck like, [i boom!]”] Peter imitated an explosive noise and illustrated it with outstretched arms. [#228B22 “That sure had ‘em running scared! Then they wasn’t even ready for when you all to came on to just start cutting ‘em down either.”] Peter sliced through the air with an imaginary cutlass, jabbing and stabbing. Simon mimed meeting the business end of the blade and ‘died’ with a dramatic high-pitched girly scream that launched all the other boys into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

 When Peter caught his breath again, both his sides and cheeks aching from the prolonged laughter, he looked up to Hook with a renewed sense of awe. During the fight, Peter had watched the captain from on high. He admired how well the man commanded his crew in the heat of battle, giving no signs of weakness away to neither friend nor foe. Only nerves of steel. Added to that, the salty sea air practically sang with the swinging of Hook’s sword. It whistled as whooshed down to deliver death blows. It hummed as it slashed through vulnerable skin. Its music was written in a seemingly never-ending, ever-expanding pool of crimson. And in that instant, Peter knew that was the kind of life, the kind of [i power] and [i skill] that he craved.

 [#228B22 “So,”] said the boy a bit sheepishly. [#228B22 “D’ya think you could maybe teach me how to do that sometime?”] Before Hook had a chance to respond, the redhead quickly began rattling off his case. [#228B22 “I promise to practice every day, honest! And you can teach me either late at night or early in the morning, so you don’t have to worry about running the ship. I’ll be awake and ready either way. Plus, I learn fast. I’m good at that sort of thing. I’m already real quick too, can move around all fast and the like. And, I mean, you know I can fight. Take a hit. Well, with fists and such at least. All’s I need now is the sword.”] Finally finished, Peter looked to Hook, waiting with bated breath.

Nothing in this world felt better than the rush of victory. Indeed, as the young boy went about telling the captain about the battle which they’d had fought and rehashing each and every gory detail about their whole ordeal a sense of pride beamed in the captain’s eye. He’d been a fierce fighter and an even skilled swordsmen when it came down to it. It wasn’t a wonder why the boy had been so eager to ask if he too could learn the art of the sword. Steeping away from the Steering a stern look was on the face of the captain. He had indeed promise the boy that he’d make a fine pirate out of him. And what was a pirate if he didn't have a sword? A worthless one! That was the goodness and honest truth! 

Grinning he turned towards the boy and drew his cutlass from his sheath. [b “So boy, you really think ya ready to learn how to truly be a pirate and fight like a real one?”] Pointing the tip of the sword at the boy the captain grinned, before he tossed it up in the air. Spinning around, he caught it, before flipping it over his shoulders and catching it once more. Turning sideways, he thrust the air a few times, lunging forward, before stepping back and slashing at an invisible foe before turning the blade upwards and grinning. [b “You wanna learn how to do all of that?” Well, than, a wise man once said before ya learn how to run, you need to learn how to walk first. Meet me tomorrow morning at dawn.”] Hook knew that the boy would be ready and he wasn’t going to go easy on him either.

As the morning came bright and early Hook was on the top deck right as the crew was getting ready to head about to do their morning chores. Some had stop to watch their own captain stand with his cutlass in hand.  Before him was a small dagger which he was going to soon give to the boy as soon as he arrived on set. In truth, Hook had been fencing ever since he was a little child. Being from an aristocratic family, his father took it upon himself to see to it that his son was classically trained. So it came to little to no surprise that Hook himself had plenty of skill with the bladed arts. 

As he swung his black back and forth, he gave a little thrust forward before parrying an in coming sword thrust. Shifting his foot back he paused to catch his breath. The time to play was over now and as the boy came to he grinned as one of his crew mates came up. [i “Well, it seems as though we get to see Hook’s sword play once more.”] Speaking up was a man whom had dark skin and long matted black hair. His eyes narrowed as he unsheathed his own sword and slowly made his way towards the captain. [i “Perhaps we ought to demonstrate to the new recruits how real man fight with swords. Those Spanish bastards were not match for skill men like us!”] the male gleamed as he slashed his sword and pointed it towards the captain.

Grinning hook bowed his head before he swung his cutlass forward and he shouted. [b “Alright! It’s been a long time since I've had a worthy match! Which one of ye are brave of enough to face Captain James Hook!”] 

With that laughter echoed throughout the ship as another one step forward and brandish his sword at the captain. [b “Two on one!? An unfair advantage! Add two more and it’ll be even!”] With this a chuckle emerge from the crew as two more rose to the captains challenge. As each pirate unsheath his sword Hook held his sword at bay, his feet crossing one another as he watched what they’d when it came to the challenge. Riding the height of their victory, the crew was still eager for fun and games. Without warning one pirate charged forward, and instantly, Hook thrust his sword forward, his blade halting the man’s advance. Growling, he swung his sword at Hooks, only for the captain to move his blade out the way quickly and point it back at the man. This stillmate was soon stopped as another pirate came rushing towards hook, stepping backwards, the skilled fighter allowed the other one to slash at the male, only for him to turn his wrist and parry the attacks blade, before bringing his hilt into his face sending him crashing to the ground. Once more, the pirate from early moved to make a thrust at hm, but he skillful side step it. Thrusting at the man, the pirate barely dodge the tip of his sword as hook turned and watch as two pirates swung their swords at him. With skill and prowess, the captain parried before stepping forth and delivering savage slashes at both of them. The sound of steel clamoring against steel sounded throughout the ship as the crowd cheered.

As one pirate thrust at hook and the other one slashed, the Captain expectly caught both of their swords with his own. Kicking one pirate in the chest, he sent him barreling to the floor before he shoved another one down with. Pointing the sword at the man’s chest, the captain huffed only for him to hear the cheers and applause of the whole crew. Sheathing his sword, the male turned and gave the boy who watch all that a hearty sigh before tossing his head back and laughing. [b “And that my boy! Is why I’m the captain. Come, let your lesson begin with this!”] Reaching for a dagger, he tossed the blade towards the fiery redhead.

Peter watched in awe as the pirate captain demonstrated his showy tricks with the bladed weapon. He nodded eagerly when Hook asked him if he wanted to learn. His one-track mind wanted for nothing else in the world. When the captain agreed to teach him the next morning, Peter punched the air triumphantly with his fist. [#228B22 “Oh, yes sir, cap’n! I’ll be there, I’ll be ready!”] Giddy with the promise of learning the new skill, the boy bounded away with the rest of his crew whooping and shouting nonsensically.

That night, Peter barely slept a wink. He was too eager, too anxious. All he could think about was making the air sing with a sword. There was power in the ability to wield a weapon. All his life, he was accustomed to getting by on wit and tricks alone. With a sword, however, he would never need to take orders from anyone else ever again. If anything, he’d possess the power to [i give] orders, be in command, rule with threat of force. The boy had never had a need to resort to extreme measures of violence to get what he wanted, of course, but the option to use it was so enticing that he could seldom think of anything else. Peter’s mind was abuzz with endless possibilities! No door would ever remain unopened to a master swordsman.

The youngster was up before the sun. He quickly roused his companions to wake as well. Since they were not the ones offered the lesson, they were far less enthusiastic about such an early hour to rise. They groaned and brushed him off, desperately trying to cling to the dredges of whatever dream still lingered on the edges of their subconscious. But Peter was persistent. Even if his mates weren’t actively participating in the instruction, he wanted them to watch regardless. He convinced himself they could learn a thing or two on the sidelines. In reality, however, he simply craved their support. Nervous jitters about what was to come made his hands tremble, but he knew he could steady himself with his crew looking to their leader. Far be it from Peter to voice any of these concerns out loud though. Instead, he beat the other boys over the heads with their own pillows until they were forced to get up.

When Peter charged up the stairs with his sleepy cavalcade in tow, the boys were greeted with the sight of Hook facing off against two – no, [i four] – other men. The Lost Boys hung back along the sidelines away from the fight. With such a flurry of slashing steel, it would only be all too easy to get nicked by standing too close. Even still, Peter found his feet moving of their own accord and inching ever closer. He wanted to be near the action of it all.

The redhead watched with wide eyes as the captain sidestepped advances, parried attacks, and redirected momentum. Hook moved with such speed and skill that he was almost a blur to behold. Peter soaked up every moment of his movement, however. He was impatient to reach the same level and was trying to learn it all at once as a result. A broad grin broke across his face as the impromptu match concluded. He applauded enthusiastically along with the rest of the crew, stepping toward the captain, ready to begin his lesson.

Green eyes darted upward as a glint of metal caught the rays of the rising sun. Peter reached up without hesitation and caught the small dagger by the hilt. It was difficult to say if it had been beginner’s luck or innate skill that afforded the boy the ability to do so without injuring himself. Either way, he frowned slightly as he gazed at the small weapon. It was finely made. There was good balance between the sharp blade and the slightly curved hilt. It was also very simple. There were no extra embellishments embedded anywhere on it save for some small etched swirls near the pommel. All in all, it was a good, sturdy dagger. But a dagger was no sword.

[#228B22 “Thought you said you were gonna teach me how to fight like a real pirate,”] he said sourly. He gripped the hilt and gave it a few testing slashes through the air. It was light and easy to wield, but it had neither the reach nor the force of a cutlass. [#228B22 “What sort of pirate is goin’ about carrying one of these? I’m dead if someone else comes at me with one of them.”] Peter gestured toward Hook’s sheath. He gave a petulant pout before casting the dagger back at the captain’s feet. [#228B22 “Are you trying to have a laugh?”]

[i “What do you think you’re doing?”] The disappointment in Hook's voice couldn’t be mistaken at all as he saw the way the boy just dismissively threw the dagger back down at Hook’s feet. While it was true that the dagger wasn’t a cutlass. It was still something and the captain thought that the boy needed to learn how to walk before he could even consider running. Stepping forward, the Pirate Captain picked up the blade and blinked his eyes. Running his upon the hilt, he spoke softly. [i “Do you not know where I got this dagger from? The hilt of this dagger is Spanish Gold. Melted down, this alone is worth… Well, worth… in English money, 1,500 pounds. We found this amongst the treasure we've captured from the Wasps.. I’ve given it to you as a reward for your bravery..”]

As the captain finished explaining the origin of the dagger the crew looked back at him as he once more reached from the sheath which it came from. In truth, Hook had come to respect the boy a great deal. It seemed that Peter was still skeptical of the captain and didn’t hold him in the same regard. Turning upon his heel Hook let out a sigh and spoke once more. [b “So pick up the damn blade and prove you’ve skilled with it. So that when we hit Jamaica you can sell it for a blade of yer own!”] What started off as a soft and kind voice came out thundering and loud, as Hook drew his blade once more and took a stance in front of the boy. His eyes seemed to burn with a low heat and intensity that rivaled hell’s fire. His eyes narrowed and his blade was focused on the boy. Front foot forward and back foot planted firmly on the ground he waited for the boy to pick up the blade so that the lesson could start. There was no sense in wasting time when their voyage to Jamaica was still a week away. 

Kicking the blade back towards the boy, he watched as the dagger spun before the boy's feet. In truth the weight of a cutlass was heavier than what it’d appeared to be. People always assumed that the blade was light and nimble. But it weighed three pounds. And after times that weight got heavier and heavier to hold. So a dagger was as good a starting place to learn the basics than any. Plus with how fast and quick the boy moved naturally, it made sense that the dagger was the more practical weapon for Peter. As the standoff between the two became longer and longer the only thing that Hook do was hold his breath. If he wouldn’t pick up the dagger than the captain would just force his hand to do so. Stepping forward, the male moved his blade dangerously close to the boy and spoke again his voice low and almost menacing. [b “Pick up the blade.”] 

As soon as the boy would, Hook would step back and grin. [b “Let’s make a deal shall we? If you can cut me with that dagger, I’ll give you a real sword and  I’ll apologize for not taking you seriously on our first time. Now, shall we begin?”]

If Peter clocked the captain’s disappointment and hurt as the result of his rudeness, he did not acknowledge it. Rather than show any remorse for his actions he simply stood with that same petulant pout cemented to his face and his arms crossed over his chest. What did he care about the worth of some shiny dagger? It wasn’t the money he was after. The boy wanted a proper weapon and all the power that came with it. That would’ve been a greater reward than any arbitrary amount of money. He’d gotten on well enough without a cent to his name all this time; he could go a little longer.

The redhead didn’t flinch when Hook’s voice changed from soft to booming. He held his ground as the captain commanded that he pick up the dagger. When the older man’s eyes narrowed, so too did the boy’s. A challenge.

The blade came skidding across the wooden deck, clattering the entire way. It spun in a vicious circle, its pointed edge a shining blur. Somehow, be it through luck or skill, Peter lifted the toe of his shoe at the perfect moment for the hilt to wedge neatly beneath it and come to a complete stop. The sharpened tip pointed squarely at the captain now. Hook moved forward, his cutlass aimed straight ahead at the boy, ordering him to pick up the dagger. For a moment – one that felt like an eternity – Peter didn’t move. The crew held its breath and the air crackled with tension. Then, in a single fell swoop, Peter swiftly fell to his knees and scooped up blade in the process. With the dagger in hand, he propped one leg up in front of him, the back pushing him up off the ground in a quick spinning motion. He swung his arms out with the momentum the propelled him forward and swatted the sword away from him while Hook took a step back. There was surprising amount of power in the swing, enough to at least knock the sword back to the captain’s side.

As Peter straightened, a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. [#228B22 “A deal, hm?”] There was a taunting and playful lilt to his voice. [#228B22 “Fine. I’ve cut you before,”] Peter’s mind flashed back to his first meeting with the pirate captain. Hook had gone after Oliver and Peter came to the rescue, slicing the pirate’s arm in the process. [#228B22 “Likely won’t take much to do it again.”]

Before the words had even fully left his mouth, Peter was charging across the deck. He had the dagger pointed at man’s exposed gut, but then with a quick shuffle of the feet he feinted left, pivoted, and turned to the right. Now at Hook’s side, he shot a free hand out and clamped it around the captain’s wrist while simultaneously twisting it back to move his sword out of the way. With a cocky flourish, Peter spun the dagger in his hand and brought it upwards to attempt to slice Hook’s cheek. It would’ve been easier to simply drag the serrated edge across the arm that Peter held but, always one for the dramatic, Peter couldn’t help trying to show off.

The boy was a natural when it came to the bladed arts. Like bait on the hook, he’d had drawn in the Pirate captain with a promise of an easy cut. Fully committed to it, the Captain was just inches away from hitting Peter with the flat of his sword before he’d caught hold of his sword. As he felt his hand twist, the pirate’ captain’s other hand was completely out the way of the trajectory of the blade coming upwards at his face. All he’d had to do was side-step it, and he’d plan to do so easily. But as he step backwards and did his best to jerk his hand away from the boys, his left hand flew upwards as he lost his balance and than….

It rained blood. Blood spilled across the deck as James Hook said nothing but watched as his hand was lopped off. It wasn’t something which was done with nefarious intent, it was an accident. A combination of him both falling backwards and feeling like he needed to protect his face. No words escaped him, instead the world spun around him and as he continued to fall he found himself looking at the feet of the boy. His eyes widen in a silent horror as the crew shouted his named and the sound of footsteps rushing towards him only felt like drums beating in the distance. Was he dreaming? He felt light as his body was lifted into the air and the darkness seeped in and out. In between the darkness he saw his men call for the doctor, his temperature rising with each moment. One minute he found himself upon the deck his ship, the next he was below, and then the next moment when he open his eyes he found himself no longer on the rocking of the ship but stable ground.

Blinking he wondered if this to was a dream as he found himself sinking further down into the comfort of a bed. Once more he blinked his eyes and saw darkness, before blinking and seeing the face of Smee. The round Irish man was blubbering about him not worrying about anything, and everything be alright now that they’d made it safely to the Island. The next vision he saw was a tousle of red hair and Peter? [i (Was it Peter?) ] Saying words to him which were incoherent but it made no difference now. Hook was in a better place. This place was warm and soft and it suited him. It suited him.

Whether it was a miracle of luck, an hour and a half had pass between the time Peter cutted off Hook’s hand and the time they spotted the Island. Smee, having been a doctor in his past life, was able to stop the bleeding and tend to his wounds. It was very very common for pirates to loose limbs at sea and most of the time it wasn’t deadly. But unluckily the captain had develop a fever on top of having a limb severed so time was working against them. Within the next week he drifted in and out of consciousness battling for his own life to live to fight again. But by the end of it, the sickness had died down and the captain was up again.

Hazelnut eyes looked at the stump which was now a part of his life. Sitting up on his bed the captain looked at the nurse who was watching over him. Gasping, she went off to go and get his second mate who had been handling the finances in his absence. All and all, the pirate crew of Hook had brought in a damn good haul. The financial reward which they earned was well enough to pay each man a months wage five times over. If they choose to retire and live the rest of their lives as citizens in Jamaica instead of baring the cruelty of the sea and being hunted down by the crown then they could well do so. The crew had earn the right after serving and flying on the captain. 

Lost in thought he’d barely notice that Smee was standing before him. [b “Cap’n..”] His voice came out slow and hesitant as Hook stared blankly out towards the hospital room [i “Smee..”] He spoke softly. There was an understanding in those words that he needed to be left alone. But before Smee turn to walk away the captain said one thing and one thing only. [i ‘Find me a hook for  a hand..”]

It all happened so quickly. One moment Peter was bringing the knife upward toward the captain’s cheek, and the next it was slicing through skin, tendon, and bone. Warm droplets immediately splattered the young boy’s face. He winced at the sensation, not yet connecting all the dots of what just happened. But as two dull thuds sounded next to him – one the captain’s, and the other the captain’s hand – it became painstakingly clear what took place.

The crew reacted in an instant. They rushed forward, shoving Peter out of the way to more quickly get to the wounded Hook. Dumbfounded and horror stricken, the redhead watched slack jawed from the perimeter of the growing crowd. Color had all but completely drained from his face. The men hurriedly but gingerly hoisted the captain up and carted him off below deck. One of the men at the back of the group turned toward Peter in a rage after Hook was taken off his hands. He charged toward him like a bull, raging fire clear in his eyes. Though Peter saw it coming from a mile away, he made no move to protect himself from the punch the connected with his face head on.

The Lost Boys wailed their leader’s name as the impact knocked him from his feet and sent him sprawling into the pool of crimson that Hook had left behind. His own blood began to spurt from his nose and upper lip. The metallic taste of both coated his tongue sickeningly and he spat it out. Peter’s head was throbbing now, the corners of his vision wavering. Just as the pirate was about to descend upon the boy again, Smee hastily waddled to his defense. The round man stumbled over his words in standing up to the taller pirate, but he was fierce in his admonition, nonetheless. He scolded the man harshly for trying to punish Peter for something that had clearly been an accident.

When the other man backed down, Smee helped the boy to his feet. He was saying something about it not being the boy’s fault, but his words seemed far away to the redhead. Smee beckoned the other Lost Boys over and left Peter in their care while he quickly went to check on Hook. It took all three boys to half lead and half drag Peter off toward the ship’s bathing room. It was hardly ever used because the extra water was sparse and not meant to be wasted on luxuries like showering, but this was as much of an emergency as anything else.

Together, the boys stripped Peter of his clothes and carefully began to rid his body of residual blood with a few wet rags. While the boy normally would have balked at being bathed, he remained sullenly despondent as he watched thin crimson trails trickle down his body. He knew that while he could be physically cleansed from his actions, the image of Hook’s severed hand falling to the ground would be a difficult one to shake. Assuming he could even be rid of it at all.

Once cleaned, the Lost Boys found Peter a new set of unstained clothes and got him dressed. Figuring it was best that Peter got some rest, Simon suggested they get him to his hammock. The other boys agreed and moved him into the crew’s quarters. They did their best to make their leader comfortable but kept staring outward with an empty gaze that unsettled them all. Sensing the younger two’s discomfort, Simon sent them away saying that he’d look out for Peter on his own. Teddy and Oliver were only all too grateful to leave in a rush. They likely wanted to both get away from Peter as well as see what became of the captain.

No sooner after they had left did Peter begin to take large, shuddering breaths. It suddenly felt like his ribcage was collapsing in on his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Simultaneously, the hot sting of tears began to rise in his eyes. His face contorted as he tried to hold them back, but they overflowed and spilled down his cheeks. Then, in a frantic breath, he just kept repeating, [#228B22 “My fault… my fault… my fault…”]

Simon was crouching down so that he was eye level with Peter, a worried expression upon his face. [#4169E1 “Peter? Ssh, it’s okay. Peter.”] But Peter showed no sign that he’d even heard Simon. Instead, he kept breathing faster and faster, nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. Mustering up his might, Simon raised a hand and brought it down hard to smack Peter across the cheek. [#4169E1 [i “Snap out of it!”]]

Peter jolted upright immediately, his frenzied breathing now stalled. He cupped his cheek gingerly and looked at Simon with a mix of both hurt and anger. [#228B22 “What’d you go and do that for?”]

[#4169E1 “It’s what you did to me when I was freaking out, ‘member?”] Simon said with a shrug. It was clear that he meant nothing malicious by this statement, but Peter still somehow felt slighted. [#4169E1 “’Sides, you were beginning to weird me out, mate.”] He took a seat next to Peter on the hammock and clapped him on the back a couple of times. It wasn’t the most tender gesture, but Peter did find some reassurance in it. [#4169E1 “You alright?”]

Peter sniffled and wiped the back of his hand across his nose. He sucked in a breath of pain through his teeth and winced. It was still highly tender from the pirate who had punched him. [#228B22 “They’re gonna kill me for this, I just know it.”]

[#4169E1 “Who? And for what?”]

[#228B22 “The crew. For killing the captain obviously.”] Peter groaned and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.

[#4169E1 “You ain’t killed no one yet, Peter. They can’t do anything to you for something you ain’t done,”] Simon offered comfortingly.

[#228B22 “[i Yet.] Meaning he will die. You saw all that blood out there! He’s a goner and it’s all my fault.”]

[#4169E1 “You heard what Smee said – it was an accident. We all saw that it was. Even if he do die, they can’t go and pin that on you. And if they do…”] Simon trailed off, unsure where he was going with that line of thinking. [#4169E1 “Well, we’ll deal with it then. Alright?”]

Peter straightened and sniffled again, but he nodded.

By some stroke of luck, they made port in the island of Jamacia not long after that. The crew made quick work of whisking the captain away to the nearest infirmary as soon as they docked. After that there wasn’t much left to do except wait. While Hook’s bloodied stump had been staunched by Smee, he still ran a worryingly high fever. If he had a hope of making it, his body temperature was in desperate need of regulation. Despite the physical pain the captain no doubt endured, the agony of waiting was no less torturous for the rest of the crew.

While most of the men on board continued to busy themselves with day-to-day tasks to whittle away the hours, Peter spent most of his time hiding from the others or wallowing in self-pity. Oftentimes he was little more than a stone’s throw away from the captain’s recovery room, hiding in the shadows. Waiting for good word to come. He’d even snuck inside once or twice to see the damage he’d done, only to run out shortly thereafter.

A week went by with little progress to show for it. Then, as a nurse sprinted from Hook’s room, Peter knew that something had shifted. For better or for worse was still difficult to say. Smee was promptly alerted and went into the room. The young boy snuck close to the door and breathed a small sigh of relief at the whispered words taking place inside. Hook was alive. He couldn’t make out exactly what was said, but he darted away as Smee left the captain alone.

When it was clear no one else was coming, Peter popped his head into the room to check on the pirate captain himself. He slowly crept to the dark-haired man’s bedside. He noted the beads of sweat still fresh on Hook’s brow, the deathlike pallor of his face. And, of course, the bloodied bandaged stump resting at his left side. Peter trembled. He wanted to immediately burst into tears and a heartfelt apology, but upon remembering Simon slapping him, settled instead into shakily saying, [#228B22 “You… you shouldn’t have moved, Hook.”]