Alone and Unloved no More - Part 2

[skellagirl]

Continuation of my old terrible fanfic



Chapter 2 - Hook’s Story

It was very early in the morning when she was woken up. And she was woken up by Hook shaking her violently by the shoulders.

“Where is it?” he asked viciously. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

“What?” she asked.

“My scarf,” he said, his blue eyes wide, “Where is it?!” She stared blankly at him, touching the spot where the scarf was stored.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled. He shoved her back into the hammock and stood up straight, looking around broken-heartedly. She stared at him, then looked around. None of the other pirates were awake. She swung her feet off the hammock and stood up, remembering instantly that she was on a pirate ship. It was very, very strange to wake up in a swaying bedroom that smelled of rum, and not to mention it was inhabited by nothing by pirates.

She put her hands in her hair and ruffled it about, yawning hugely. “I guess I’d help you look for it… I have nothing better to do, anyway…” He was already striding out of the room. She ran after him. He shoved open the door so hard it almost came off its hinges. She walked outside. The sun was barely up, just a sliver on the horizon. It was unnaturally cold out, as though a storm was coming. He stopped abruptly and she bumped into his back. He turned around and stared at her.

“What’s the point of searching? You were the only one in my room last night, so unless someone came in when I was sleeping, you have it!” he yelled, grabbing one of her shoulders and shaking her.

“I don’t,” she lied, searching his face closely. He stared hard at her.

“Give it to me,” he said. She took a step back, lowering her eyebrows.

“I don’t have it,” she said in a firm voice. He grabbed her arm, his blue eyes flickering.

“I said give it to me!” he yelled.

“I don’t have it!” she yelled back. To her horror, she realized his eyes were turning red.

“I know you have it,” he said, his eyes burning like fire. She quivered, but managed to hold her ground.

“I don’t!” she screamed, and slapped him hard across the face. He grimaced in pain as the beautiful blue hue returned to his eyes. He stared at her, his eyes glimmering with tears.

“Why don’t you just give it to me?” he asked, his voice hard.

“I don’t have it,” she said through clenched teeth, shoving him back against the mast. He stared at her. She took a step forward. It was silent for a moment. He grabbed her around the back and walked over to the edge.

“I’ll throw you overboard,” he muttered. She struggled around, kicking and yelling.

“Let me go!” she screamed. He lifted her over and had her sit on the railing.

“How would you like to join that mop you threw over yesterday?” he asked. She kicked violently.

“Stop it! Let me go!” she yelled. He just laughed.

“Why should I?” he asked, “Unless, of course, you give me back my scarf.”

“I don’t have it,” she grumbled. He put his lips against her cheek.

“Then say hello to that mop for me, alright?” he asked, and shoved her over the edge. She let out a scream, and just before she hit the water she managed to grab onto a rope that was hanging off of the ship. She slammed into the side of the ship, holding on with all her might, so as not to fall off. He stared over the edge, astonished.

“Lucky, lucky, love,” he said, “But try climbing up that.”

She stared up at him.

“But you can’t just leave me here!” she yelled.

“I can, and I will,” he said, “Until you give me back my scarf, or unless you can climb up that rope, you’re stuck there.”

She put her hand up and tried to climb, but the rope was strangely slick, and she couldn’t climb. She tried to get into a comfortable position, then looked back up at him. There was a huge, sly smirk on his face.

“Sorry, love,” he said softly.

What’s so special about a stupid scarf?!” she yelled. The smile faded a bit from his face.

“You want to know?” he asked, looking annoyed all of the sudden.

“Yes, I would love to know,” she said.

“Alright,” he said, “You’re lucky I still remember, and now is the perfect time to tell you, since you’re hanging helplessly above the churning blue ocean, hungry for a beautiful woman like you.”

“Would you just get to the point?” she asked.

“All in good time,” he said. Suddenly the rest of the crew made their way out of the sleeping quarters. He turned to them. “Crew,” he yelled, “I want every last one of you to go to the island and gather food for breakfast!” They all just stared at him. “Go on,” he said. The pirates murmured a bit, then decided to take a few lifeboats out to the island. Once they were all gone, Hook turned back to her.

“You know, love, the longer you’re here, the more you’ll forget,” he said.

“What happened to the scarf conversation?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” he said, “That scarf was given to me when I was fifteen by a Sultana of Greece. After she left me. But… it was for the best, I suppose… We were involved in what everyone thought was a scandal, but it was only a simple kiss…” He paused, “Just a kiss.”

“Well, just keep talking,” she said, “Get back to the point.”

“The point, lass, is that it was given to me by the girl I loved,” he said, “I treasured it for as long as I had it, and now you have it, and I want it back.”

“I don’t have it,” she said again. He shrugged.

“Well then, I guess you’ll have to climb, aye?” he said. She sighed.

“Just let me up!” she yelled.

“Sorry, love. I’d like to, but I’d like my scarf more,” he said.

“Well, even if I did have it, how could I give it to you if I’m down here?” she asked, her hands already going numb.

“Just show it to me, and I’ll pull you up,” he said.

“You say that like I have it,” she said.

“You do,” he said. She adjusted herself.

“I don’t,” she said.

“Okay, then I guess you’ll have to climb,” he said, and left.

“Hey!” she screamed, “Come back!” She thought she could distantly hear him say ‘Sorry, love’ again.

She ended up staying there until nighttime, Hook checking up on her every now and again. And every time she would say she didn’t have it, and every time he would leave saying ‘Sorry, love’. After Hook had gone to sleep, Smee came to check up on her.

“Ahoy, lass!” he called. She looked up.

“Please,” she mumbled, “Please pull me up.” He shrugged.

“Sorry, lass, but the cap’n’s ordered me not to until you give ‘im back his doo-dad,” he said.

“I will if you pull me up,” she cried. Smee looked around, then nodded.

“Alright, lass,” he said, and began pulling her up. As soon as she got her feet on deck, the blood started returning to her arms, as well as the colour. She stood up straight and stretched her legs and kicked her legs around. She turned towards him, then pulled the scarf out of her dress. Smee blushed.

“So that’s where you were hiding it,” he said.

“Yep,” she said, striding over to the sewing machine she had spotted earlier. It was Smee’s, and it was what he had used to make her dress. She sat down and began patching up the holes. Smee watched her for a moment, then patted her on the shoulder.

“Well, I’m going to bed. G’night, lass,” he said.

“Good night,” she said, but didn’t take her eyes off the scarf. It was a while before she finally finished, but when it did, it looked very good, much better than before. She looked around, then stood up.

She went up the stairs as quietly as she could, and stared at the closed door, at the plaque. For a moment she hesitated, then pushed on the door. It opened with ease, and she peered inside. It was deafeningly silent. She opened the door more and more, until it was wide open. There was no sign of him being awake, so she took a step inside. Hook was, of course, sleeping, cocooned in blankets so the only thing visible was his hand and his head. She stared at him. He looked amazingly peaceful, as though he didn’t have a burden in the world. She took slow steps up to him and stared at him. She realized that, behind his peacefulness was a flicker of troubled despair. How deeply in love had he been with this girl that gave him this scarf?

She leaned down and grasped his hand, pushing the scarf into his palm and folding his fingers over it. He twitched a bit, but didn’t wake. She leaned forward to his ear.

“I’m sorry for taking this away from you,” she whispered. She watched him for a moment, then left the room.

The next morning, Ashanti ended up eating breakfast with the captain, and she was sure she would end up doing that for the remainder of her time here, however long that may be. It was a bit awkward sitting with him this morning, but she managed to ignore it by stuffing her face with food. After a while of silence, Hook spoke up.

“I found my scarf,” he mumbled. She looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Where?” she asked, as though to say ‘I didn’t have it’ again.

“In my hand,” he said, “I woke up and it was in my hand. Supposedly whoever took it decided to give it back.” He looked slyly at Ashanti, who blushed and continued eating. “Why did you take it, love?” he asked.

“I didn’t take it,” she snapped.

“Stop lying to me. You gave it back, now. I’m not angry,” he said gently.

“Funny,” she said, “You seemed pretty angry last night when your eyes turned red.” She stared at him. He turned back to his food and kept eating. “What the crap is wrong with you? Yellow blood, fancy… colour-changing eyes, scarves from Greek Sultanas?” He sighed.

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” he said, sipping some rum.

“You’re right. I don’t care, anyway,” she said crossly, stuffing some food into her mouth.

“I went to a boys’ school,” he said, “Eton.” She stared at him.

“What?” she asked. He sighed, looking into her eyes.

“It was there they tried to poison my mind with ideas that women were the devil,” he said, “But… come on, that’s just stupid.” He took a strangely large sip of his rum, refilling the glass afterwards.

Ashanti just stared.

“Shortly after the Sultana and I were involved in the ‘scandal’ and she was sent back to Greece, I was sent off for seven years of service on a slave ship.”

“Slave… ship?” she asked.

“Transporting African ‘slaves’ to America, love, and Britain,” he said, “It was my father’s ship.”

“That’s sick,” she mumbled bitterly.

“Yes, yes it is,” he said, “I helped, with my good friend Jolly R, to stop that ship’s slave transportation, and in the process killed some very evil men.”

She stared at him. “Your father wasn’t on the ship, was he?”

“Of course not. He was a very busy man, with all the secret meetings, and not having enough time for me, of course.”

“What about your moth--?”

“My mother was never around, lass. I don’t even know her name.” He cast a longing gaze at her, and she shuddered.

“Well…” she managed to say, but could think of nothing else. Her seemingly endless appetite had vanished, leaving an even stranger feeling in her stomach. Her mouth was dry again, and if she tried to eat anything else, she would surely be sick. She pushed her plate away and stared out at the ocean.

It was completely silent until a bell began ringing. For a moment she thought it was the bell that signaled the end of mealtime, but then realized it was much deeper. It was the warning bell. Suddenly a very peculiar, and yet very familiar sound hit Ashanti’s ears.

The sound of a clock ticking.

The pirates outside flew into a state of panic, yelling to get the captain and their weapon. She turned and stared at Hook, her eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes wild. There was a horror-stricken expression on his face. “Hey!” she yelled. He looked at her, then stood up, slamming into the table as he did so. He grabbed her by the arm and ran over to a closet. When he opened it, she saw rows and rows of weapons. He took out several large guns, the types of which Ashanti did not know, and strapped them around himself. He then took out a gun Ashanti could identify as a shotgun. He made sure it was loaded, aimed it a bit, then thrust it into her arms.

“If worse comes to worst, use this,” he said firmly, looking into her eyes very seriously.

“What? I’m not going to kill you!” she yelled.

“No! That’s not what I meant… Just, follow me,” he said. He grabbed her by the arm again and ran outside. He opened the door to see several pirates all looking as equally panicked, about to knock on his door.

“Cap’n!” one shouted, “The croc! He’s here!” Hook shoved his way out.

“I know, move!” he yelled. He tugged Ashanti down the stairs and looked around. “Smee!” he yelled. Smee appeared from seemingly nowhere beside his captain.

“Aye, cap’n?” he asked.

“Ready the cannons. I want that beast dead this time,” Hook said, his eyes hard and determined. There had been no storm the previous day, but it was still monochromatic outside, and Ashanti could smell rain coming.

“Aye, cap’n,” said Smee, and went below with a few other crew members. Hook turned to Ashanti and released her arm.

“If you see him, shoot him,” he said, managing a weak smile.

“Who’s ‘him’?” she asked.

“The croc, love,” he said, “The croc.”

“Captain! Over here!” yelled one of the crew, and there was a hail of gunshots off the opposite side of the ship. Hook ran to the other side and shoved his way through, moving aside for Ashanti. He cocked his gun and aimed.

Ashanti pushed her way through and could finally see the source of the ticking, and who ‘him’ was. It was a gigantic crocodile, at least twice, if not three times, the size of a regular one. Its gigantic jaws thrashed about in the dark water, and its huge yellow eyes glared up at them. Ashanti’s eyes widened.

“My gosh!” she exclaimed. Hook nudged her.

“Aim and fire, love!” he yelled over the deafening gunfire. Ashanti didn’t, in the faintest idea, know how to work a gun. He took a pause after shooting his own gun and took a step behind her. He put his arms around her shoulders, pulling the crosshair up to her eye. He positioned the gun properly, then set her finger on the trigger. He set his lips against her ear. “Aim and fire,” he said. Suddenly there was a violent pressure and ringing gunshot as Hook pressed the trigger. Blood began leaking from the side of the beast. She smiled, and felt him smile against her as well. “You got a shot,” he said. He went back to his spot and continued firing his own guns.

Of course, he had just done all the work. Ashanti watched as the beast disappeared under the water, wondering how that huge target managed to evade all of the bullets. She turned her attention to Hook, who was hastily reloading his guns. Once he was done he wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

“Where’d he go?” she asked, ignoring the fact that she didn’t know why it was so important to kill him.

“Who knows?” Hook asked, keeping his eyes glued to the waves. He aimed and shot a bullet into the sea, the sound lingering in Ashanti’s ears. Nothing happened. “Some of you go to the starboard side. Keep a close watch. If you see any sign, fire at will, understand?” he said.

“Aye, captain!” the crew rang out. Several of them ran to the other side of the ship. Ashanti turned to the ocean again, able to get a better spot. She put the crosshair to her eye as he had shown her, but still nothing happened - the sea remained still.

She glanced at Hook, who smiled. She felt herself grin back, and tried with all her might not to. He licked his lips and returned his eyes to his own crosshair.

“For a woman, you’re pretty loyal,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, smirking, “Got a problem with us women?”

“I, personally? No, not at all. I thought I told you that earlier, love,” he said, “But I’m sure you’ve heard the superstition, women are--”

“Bad luck on board any kind of ship.” She scoffed, “Why ships, you know?” she asked, “Why not cars? Or planes?”

He turned to her, a blank look in his eyes.

“… Cars?” he asked, “What are cars?” She stared at him.

“Oh… Right… Cars--” Suddenly the ship took a huge, violent lurch to the right. Hook, Ashanti, and the crew accompanying them rolled across the deck, finally stopping when the ship stopped moving. Hook stood up on wobbly knees and pulled some of his crew up. He cocked his gun.

“The blasted beast is trying to ram us over!” he yelled. Ashanti grabbed the tail of Hook’s coat and pulled herself up, nearly pulling him back down.

“Holy crap!” she yelled, “What was that?”

“The croc,” he said, running over the deck to the side of the ship again. It was tilted slightly, as the croc was underneath it. Hook went to the very edge, aimed, and shot. There was a ghastly cracking noise and the ship regained balance. Hook swayed with the ship so he could stay on top of it.

“Come on, you scallywags, hurry up and kill this beast!” he yelled, the ticking fading into the water. Ashanti ran over to the edge of the ship and aimed her gun.

“You do realize you’ll have to explain this all when this croc is gone, right?” she asked. He aimed carefully and shot into the water. A cloud of blood took over the nearly black waves. The croc thrashed its head out of the water, dousing everyone with saltwater. It sped off in the direction of the island, and Hook and Ashanti ran across the deck to watch it. It ran up and disappeared into the foliage, leaving a trail of blood behind it.

Smee appeared on deck.

“Cap’n?” he asked. Hook turned towards the bo’sun.

“Smee?” he said.

“Are we supposed to fire the cannons soon?” he asked. Hook blinked. He had forgotten all about the cannons.

“No, Smee,” he said, “The croc’s gone. Unload the cannons, mate.” He turned towards the island again, so he was in profile to Ashanti. She looked to the island as a slight breeze picked up, then turned her gaze to Hook. Suddenly, even in the slight cold, she felt heat crawl up her back. She sighed and looked to the island.

Hook made a strange noise. She glanced at him and found that his nose was bleeding. He covered his nose and turned towards her.

“All the stress, I suppose,” he muttered. He began striding towards his room, grabbing Smee by the arm as he went.

For a while, no one was allowed inside. Smee came out after a couple minutes carrying an armful of buckets. Ashanti followed him to the edge of the ship. He was lowering the buckets into the ocean like a well.

“Mr. Smee?” she asked.

“Yes, lass?” he said, setting the first bucket down by his feet and lowering another into the water below.

“What are the buckets for?” she asked. He handed her one.

“If you help me, I’ll tell you, lassie,” he said. She tied a rope around the handle and lowered it down. “It’s such a pain, having to carry all these buckets back up to the captain’s quarters alone. Ah well…”

“What are they for?” she asked.

“Whenever that croc comes around, the cap’n always relaxes by putting his legs in a tub of hot water, and always alone. Dunno why, but it always seems to do him good.” He pulled the last bucket up and picked some up. “Help me, please, would you, lass?” he asked. She blushed lightly.

“Help you? Pour the water…? For Captain Hook?” she stuttered. Smee shook his head.

“First we have to take ‘em to the kitchen and put ‘em over a fire, so they’re warm,” he said. As much as she didn’t want to, she picked up a few of the buckets. She nodded hesitantly and followed him to the kitchen. And then, of course, he requested her help to get them to the captain, and she cursed her curiosity. Something was grabbing at her conscience to stop. But she couldn’t. Not after being forced to clean glass with her bare hands. She followed Smee back across the deck and up the stairs to the captain’s quarters. Smee knocked a few times, then went inside. “I brought the lass with me, cap’n. She’s helping me pour the water today,” she heard him say.

“Of course, Smee,” she heard the captain say. Without hesitating any longer, she stepped inside the room.

Immediately her heart jumped and her face became pink.

Hook was sitting in a very luxurious arm chair, gold with crimson cushions, of course. He was buried in a thick white blanket that was draped over his shoulders. He was adjusting it so it was covering him all up, and his legs were in the empty tub. His nose was slightly red, as though he’d been crying or he was sick. He looked up at Ashanti and gave her a slight smile, then adjusted himself in the chair.

And he was completely naked.

She gripped hard on the handles of the buckets, trying not to drop them, and she could feel tiny beads of sweat sprout up on her forehead. Smee walked over to the tub and began pouring water in.

“Come on, lassie,” he said. She hastened to his side and poured one of the buckets in, glancing at Hook every once in a while, and every time he would give her an exhausted smile. She would simply stare at him and continue pouring the water, until all of the buckets were gone. She stared at the gently rippling water, and the steam that gently wafted away from it.

“Thank you, Smee,” Hook said suddenly, his voice faint. Ashanti stood up and grabbed the buckets, staring at him. He looked up at her, and his eyes softened. “And thank you, love,” he said. She blinked, the back of her neck heating a bit. She turned to leave, Smee in front of her, until suddenly someone tugged on the back of her dress - and of course, that someone was Hook. She turned around and stared at him, her mouth open slightly. He smiled gently. She blushed, and in her confusion dunked one of her buckets into the tub, then threw it on him. He hastily pulled the blankets around him and sat, statuesque as the chair he was on, water dribbling off his hair. Ashanti glanced back at Smee, who shrugged and dashed out of the room. She turned back to Hook, then ran for the door. He grabbed the back of her dress again, and this time was pulled off the chair, over the tub, and onto the floor. He managed to hold onto the blanket with his hook, although it went flying behind him like a cape. Ashanti fell on her stomach on the floor, her dress ripping until it was very short. After a moment to catch her breath, she stood up and ran for the deck, bumping into one of the masts. Panting, she stared back at Hook’s bedroom, where the door was slowly swinging closed. She glanced at Smee and smiled, laughing a bit.

“Exciting!” she said, pushing her dress down.