Alone and Unloved no More - Part 4

[skellagirl]

More old badfic c:



Chapter 4 - The Island

The only sounds were seagulls and peaceful waves. She opened her eyes. For a moment she could see nothing but water, but as she looked around she saw an island to her right. It was a bit far away, but she could swim to it. She waited for a moment to gather her bearings.

She was resting on a piece of wood, and she was amazed to find that she only had a few cuts and bruises. She sighed and looked around again. Hook, Smee, and the other pirates were nowhere to be found. She took a few deep breaths, then called out.

“Hey!” she yelled. No answer. “HEY!!” she screamed again. Still no answer. After a moment of breathing, she took off swimming for the island, then rested when she was on the beach. The others were still nowhere in sight. After she caught most of her breath, she stood up and looked around for them again. “Hey!! Anyone out there?!” she screamed. No answer. Her clothes were torn and other parts were blood spattered - with both red and yellow blood. She looked around the island. After the beach it was a huge expanse of flowers, with a few palm trees here and there. She looked out to the ocean again. As far as she could tell, no one was out there. She decided to make a message in a bottle, mostly just for the heck of it, but also in hopes that someone would find it. She looked around and, surprisingly enough, found an unbroken rum bottle and a ripped piece of parchment. She had nothing to write with except the blood smeared on her shirt. So she took some of the yellow stuff of her shirt and smeared it on the parchment, forming messy-looking words, but still readable, then stuffed it with sand and leaves and everything she could find (Which included a piece of wood and some fabric from the Jolly Roger), then set it on the water. After watching it slowly drift out to sea, she headed back towards the field, glancing back every now and then.

It was an abrupt change from sand to flowers. But it felt nice, seeing as how she had lost her boots. The flowers were all the way up to her knees, and she couldn’t identify what kind of flower they were, but they were blue. As she was walking she looked around to her right she could see the storm, raging as it traveled away across the water. Now she could see thunder, and breathed a sigh of relief that there hadn’t been any while she had been in the storm.

It was a relatively small island, and when she reached the other side she ran into a group of pirates - but they weren’t her group of pirates. She quickly ran behind a tree to watch them. They were conversing and digging a hole. Behind them was a huge treasure chest. She guessed they were burying it, or unearthing it…

But then they wouldn’t be digging a hole, she thought. She was silent, trying to hear what they were saying, but all she could make out were faint mumbles. There was a ship docked not too far away, and more pirates were on their way to the site. Suddenly something tickled against her leg and she let out a scream. The pirates who were digging looked up and saw her, and she immediately regretted letting out noise. The pirates, who were much dirtier and mangier than Hook’s, dug their shovels into the ground and leaned against the handles.

“Well, looky here, boys,” said one, “Looks like we got ourselves a flower.” Ashanti stood up straight and squared her shoulders.

“Ahoy, there, mates,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m looking for my captain. You wouldn’t have happened to see him anywhere, would you?”

“Sorry, lovie, the only captain here is ours,” said another pirate. They all began advancing towards her, slowly but surely. She sighed and looked around, distressed that her pirates might not be here.

“Right, well, I’m sure you haven’t seen any other pirates? As in, not in your crew. I’m sure they’re easy to tell apart from your crew. They’re much cleaner and more respectable than you filthy pigs.”

The pirates laughed, which was exactly the opposite of what she had wanted them to do. They all surrounded her, chuckling and eyeing her suspiciously. She pouted and turned circles, looking at them.

“Sorry, love; we’re the only pirates here. But there’s always room for a flower like you on board,” said a pirate.

“No, mate. You know that women are bad luck on board a ship,” said another.

“Well, she’s different. She’s plenty boyish enough for our crew,” said the first pirate.

“Sorry, mates. I’m with a crew already,” she said.

“Well, we told you already that we’re the only pirates here,” the pirate said.

Ashanti was silent, trying and succeeding to hide her worry about her fellow crewmates.

“So tell us, love, where did you wash up from?” asked a new pirate.

“I was in a storm,” she said.

“Ah,” said a different pirate, “We followed that storm here.”

“Figured we’d bury some treasure here. We’re planning on coming back for it in a few months’ time.”

“That’s nice,” Ashanti said. She pushed her way through the crowd and looked around. The pirates followed her, but she ignored them.

“Ashanti!” she heard someone call. She smiled and turned around to see Hook jogging towards them.

“Ahoy, mate!” called a pirate. Hook slowed to a walk as he drew nearer, and Ashanti saw that his right leg was thrashed and he was limping. From the looks of it, she guessed he had landed in a canopy of trees, or something like it. He walked over and stood behind her.

“Ahoy,” said Hook, glancing around at them.

“Who’s this, lovie?” asked one of the pirates.

“This, my friends, is my captain,” Ashanti said.

“Captain James Hook, mates,” Hook said, “Jolly nice to meet you all.” Ashanti looked up at him, smiled, then looked back at the other pirates.

“Hook, eh?” asked the first pirate, “Aren’t you supposed to be that mangy old dog whose stuck on Neverland?” Hook smirked.

“I was, but I got off of that island. I lost my ship in that nasty hurricane that just passed. I’m looking for my crew. Have you seen them anywhere?”

“No, they haven’t,” Ashanti said, “I asked already.”

“And she’s seen our treasure, mate,” said another of the dirty pirates, “We’ll either have to kill both of you, or you’ll have to come with us on our ship, on our crew.”

“Sorry, mates,” Hook said, wrapping his arms around Ashanti’s neck and resting his chin on her head, “I’m my own captain, thanks. I don’t take orders from anyone. By the way, this lovely creature is mine,” Hook stepped forward. “and no one but me is allowed to call her ‘love’.” Ashanti blushed.

“Well then, I guess we’ll have to kill you,” said the first pirate. They all gathered around, unsheathing their swords. Hook stepped forward.

“Very threatening, mates,” he said, smirking. He didn’t even brandish his sword, simply choosing to show off his hook a bit. He pushed Ashanti out of the way. “Move away, love, this’ll be gory.” Ashanti covered her eyes, so all she heard was the ripping of flesh and the cries for help or mercy. Suddenly silence fell and she pulled her hands away. Hook turned and smiled at her. “Hello!” he said, wiping blood off of his hook with his torn coat.

“Uhm… hi…” she mumbled. She looked around the ground, where bodies were laying scattered, gashes in their chests and stomachs. She looked back up at Hook, who was moving around the treasure chest, tipping his head.

“Let’s see what we have here,” he said. He pried open the lock with his hook and lifted open the lid. Ashanti ran over and looked inside. She gasped.

“Whoa!” she breathed. Inside were loads of gold, silver, and jewels. Hook picked out some rings and, with some effort, put them on his fingers, then took out some necklaces and put them around his neck. He glanced at her from underneath his lashes, then began dressing her with necklaces and rings, then pushed her hair away from her ears.

“Oh,” he said in a tone of disappointment, “Your ears are bare, love.”

She put her hands over her ears. “That’s the way I like them,” she said. He smiled.

“That’s fine,” he said. He handed her a pair of earrings and pushed the hair away from his own ears. They were adorned with around ten earrings each. She blinked.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked. He pointed to the existing hoops in his lobes, which were beat up and dirty from the storm.

“Switch these out, please,” he said. She did so, and handed the old ones to Hook. He tossed them somewhere behind him. “Thank you.” He continued putting necklaces on her and filling his pockets with loot. He gave her a handful. “Hope you have pockets,” he said. She filled whatever space she had, then watched as he put various things in his pockets and around his neck and fingers and wrists. “Loot is good, love. Remember that,” he said without looking at her.

“Where do you think the others are?” she asked, standing up and brushing sand off of her shins. He looked up at her.

“Oh! Right! We need to find the others!” he said. He closed the lid and stood up. He looked around the island, his new jewels clinking around as they hit each other. He pointed in the direction Ashanti had been going before he met up with her. “We’re going that way,” he announced, and began walking, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his right leg was thrashed up. She ran up next to him, addressing his injury.

“Shouldn’t you wrap that up?” she asked. He glanced at her.

“Wrap what up?” he asked.

“Your leg!” she said. He shrugged.

“Right, love. It’s not like there’s anything sanitary here to wrap it with, anyway,” he said, stepping over a fallen log.

“But what if it gets infected?” she asked. He looked at her.

“Ashanti, trust me. I had my right hand cut off, and that didn’t get infected,” he said.

“Did you wrap it?” she asked. He was silent.

“Well, either way. That was a whole limb, and this? This is only a minor tear.” He looked at her. “Compared to that, of course.” Suddenly he hit a large rock with his shredded leg, and tripped over it into the sand. “Who put that rock there?” he yelled through clenched teeth, holding his leg in pain. Ashanti put her hands on her hips and gave him a mother’s ‘I told you so’ look. He looked up at her, his eyes watering in pain. “Don’t even say it,” he grumbled. She rolled her eyes and put out her hand for him. He grabbed it and she pulled him up.

“So, what do you think now, Mr. Smart guy?” she asked.

“I told you already. There’s nothing sanitary to wrap it with,” he said, “Besides, we would have to find something long and skinny, like a shirt or something, and I’d much rather that you keep yours on.” She glanced at him. He was looking towards the ground and making sure he didn’t trip on any other rocks or such. He sighed. “We may very well be the only ones on this island, love,” he said, “After that ship leaves or we kill the rest of those scallywags. And it will probably be the former, seeing as how they would want to keep their own ship.” There was a note of bitterness in his last words. She put her hands behind her back.

“I’m sorry…” she said, her eyebrows drawn, “about your ship.”

“Ah,” he said, “It’s not your fault. I’m just very out of practice with sailing and such. It’d been a long time since I’d been at the wheel.” He sighed again. “I just wish we still had some kind of memoir. The whole ship, love. The whole ship is gone… And we’ll never see it again.” She swallowed.

“Well, you could always get a new one,” she said.

“Not around here. Who knows where those other lads got theirs? I don’t think there’s a town around here for miles,” he said.

“But we don’t know where we are. We could be near a town and not know it at all,” she said.

“But we have no way of getting to it,” he said.

“I’m sure we could find something,” she said.

“But we’re not sure if there’s one around,” he said.

“Stop being such a pessimist!” she yelled. He smirked.

“It’s what I do best,” he said. She nudged him.

“Yeah, right,” she said. He looked at her, his whole face softening. They were silent for a few moments as Hook returned his gaze to the path in front of him.

“And besides,” he said, “The Jolly Roger wasn’t just a ship. It was a special ship. Almost like a friend. It had been my ship since the beginning, my domain…” He slowed to a stop. “My prison…”

She stopped and turned around to look at him. “So… So, it’s bittersweet,” she said, shrugging. She walked over to him and smiled hopefully.

“Mostly bitter,” he said, scowling.

“But we could get a new ship,” she said, “Who says we can’t make sails like the other ones?”

“You’re not helping,” he said.

“Well, I’m trying to,” she said.

“Well, you’re doing a terrible job of it,” he said. He gently pushed her out of his way and continued walking. She ran up next to him, putting her hands behind her back again. She looked around the island for a while, then turned to Hook.

“Are you blaming me for this?” she asked. He blinked and looked at her.

“For what?” he asked.

“For sinking the ship? For getting us stuck on this island?” she asked. He scoffed.

“Why would I blame you?” he asked.

“Because… you know, the whole ‘women being bad luck on a ship’ thing,” she said, frowning apologetically. He pouted.

“Of course I don’t blame you,” he said, “Superstitions are idiotic, and there are only a few I believe in. Women being bad luck is not one of them.” He smiled at her. “Women are still people, just a different gender.” She gave him a half-smile. “You’re not cursed in my eyes, love,” he said. Her smile grew a bit.

Suddenly something caught Ashanti’s eye. The sand was changing to wood below their feet. She looked down. They were on a dock. Her eyes traveled along the dock, and found that it led out into the water, where the other pirates’ ship (The ones Hook had killed) was docked. She and Hook glanced at each other, then Hook smiled.

“That’s our ticket out of here, love!” he exclaimed. He reached for his sword, which had remained in tact through the storm, and handed it to Ashanti. “If they don’t give up willingly, use this,” he said.

“What?” she asked. Without answering, he grabbed her arm and pulled her along the dock. The sword was very light, and she wondered if it had been specially welded for the captain. While he was pulling her down the extensive dock in his almost numbing grip, she had a chance to examine the engravings on the sword. Or at least, she would have, if not for the continuous distraction of Hook’s necklaces clinging together or their footsteps thumping along the dock. She looked up and saw the ship they were about to take, most likely just the two of them. It was a small vessel, probably about half the size of the Jolly Roger, but that had at least one upside: If they could acquire it, it would be easier to sail with two or three people (That’s not to say it wouldn’t be difficult, of course. Just, easier).

Suddenly they started up a steep ramp, and Ashanti realized she was being pulled up onto the ship. She gripped tighter to her new weapon as Hook stood up straight, so as to make himself look bigger. Slowly, all of the action on deck stopped.

“I’ve come to take this ship,” Hook said in a grand shout. Ashanti pried her arm away from Hook’s hand. All of the crew took up their weapons.

“Who the bloody--?” started one of the pirates.

“I am Captain James Hook, of the Jolly Roger,” interrupted Hook. All of the pirates stared, as though they didn’t understand a word. “And this is Ashanti. She’s with me.”

“Hello,” she said timidly. Hook tugged her closer.

“Love, never greet enemy pirates so politely!” he said.

“Oh, right…” she said. She looked up at the crew of ratty pirates in front of her, then forced herself to get angry. “DIE!!” she screamed, and charged into battle without thinking. Hook blinked and watched for a moment. For, as she said, not ever wielding a sword, she was very good, if not clumsy, with it. She succeeded in killing two pirates almost immediately, and severely injuring another, who took off running for the island. She did great against a whole slew of dogs, but suddenly everyone had ganged up on her. Hook remained hopeful, stepping carefully towards the crowd in case he was needed. Suddenly her voice rang out above the others in a scream. “My hand!” she yelled.

Without second guessing himself, he charged into battle, thrashing and immediately killing anyone who got in his way. Ashanti was in the center, clutching onto her right hand. Blood was running profusely from it and she was screaming. Still not knowing what had happened to her, he continued killing his enemies, until every last one was dead or had run for the island. Then he ran over to Ashanti, who was on her kneeling, hunched over, and clutching her hand. He kneeled down beside her and sat her up, then lifted her left hand away. There was a tremendous gash that, as far as he could tell, ran all the way through.

“It hurts…” she gasped, crying as hard as he had ever seen her.

“Well…” he said, looking around, “Is there anything clean here we can wrap it up with?” She shook her head, trembling.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. He stood up and began searching around the deck, and suddenly Ashanti remembered something. “Hey!” she yelled. He looked back towards her. “Come here,” she said. He ran over. She reached into her shirt and pulled out his scarf. “Will this work?” she asked. He grabbed it.

“Ashanti!” he cried, “You saved my scarf!” He leaned and hugged her tightly around the shoulders. “Thank you, and yes, this will work.” He pushed himself away and began wrapping her hand up. He smiled at her. “You’re just lucky that guy didn’t cut it all the way off, aren’t you, love?” he asked. For the moment, all she could think about was how he had just done that with one hand and a hook. She nodded.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, trying not to imagine that grotesque scene. For a moment she simply breathed, and he sat there, then he stood up. Or at least, he tried to. For as soon as he moved, she threw her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. He sat for a moment, unable to think right, then decided to put his arms around her. They sat there for what seemed like hours, until someone else came up on deck. Hook and Ashanti stood up and watched as the captain walked up. Hook immediately strode over and grabbed the man by the cuff of the shirt.

“This is my ship now, and I suggest you take your leave,” Hook said, smirking.

The captain, who had already become very worried when he saw Hook striding towards him, began to kick and struggle when he saw his crews’ dead bodies around the deck.

“Yes! I will! Just let me get my things and I’ll be out of here!” he cried.

“Not on your life, mate,” Hook said through clenched teeth. He brought his glistening hook up to the man’s throat and waved it around. The man broke down into tears. Ashanti ran over.

“Captain!” she yelled. Hook looked at her. She looked stern, her face hard. “I think we can afford him one memoir,” she said, and Hook immediately got the message. He looked towards the opposing captain again.

“What’ll it be, sir?” Hook asked, “Ashanti here’ll be glad to fetch it, won’t you, love?” His teeth were clenched. Ashanti blinked uncomfortably.

“A doll! In my cabin! My daughter made it for me!” the man cried. Hook stared at his hostage, his eyes suddenly becoming very blank. Ashanti took off for the cabin and returned a few moments later with a small, badly made doll, obviously made by a small child. She handed it to the man and Hook shoved him across deck. The man sat for a moment, struggling to catch his breath.

“Get off my ship,” Hook said slowly. The man stood up. Hook began striding towards him. “GET OFF MY SHIP, YOU UNGRATEFUL--!!”

“Captain!” Ashanti yelled. Hook was pushing the man down the ramp towards the dock. Ashanti grabbed Hook around the waist and pulled him back. The captain sprinted for it down the dock, clutching the little doll to his chest. Hook shoved Ashanti to the ground and strode over to the ramp, where Smee was walking up as though the storm had happened months ago. Ashanti breathed a sigh of relief, along with all of her other emotions, that she and Hook weren’t going to be the only two on this ship, and that her fellow crewmate was safe. Hook turned to Smee.

“Are there any survivors?” he asked. Ashanti was frightened at the fact that there was a strange weakness in her captain’s voice.

“Not as far as I can tell, cap’n,” said Smee.

“Alright, then,” Hook said. He kicked the ramp off the ship so hard it shattered into two pieces. The captain began doing all of the work himself, hoisting the anchor and unfurling the sails and such, without so much as glancing at Smee or Ashanti. After a while of watching his captain, Smee spoke up.

“I think, lassie, we should start throwing these bodies overboard,” he said. She nodded, and they picked up a body nearby. Then they walked it over to the edge, Smee muttered something, and they tossed the body over the edge. They repeated this over and over again until the deck was completely cleared, then they had nothing to do again. They didn’t even know if they had supplies, like food or water, or any other such things. Ashanti assumed they could get or buy some, with all of the gold they had gathered from the treasure chest.

(A/N: Jump to new writing)

She ran up the stairs to him, digging her nails into his shoulders and wrenching him towards her. It was mostly dark by now, the remaining quarter of the sun gleaming on the horizon behind his head like some kind of eerie halo. Hook, an angel! She would have laughed at the irony if she wasn’t so angry.

“You… You killed him!” she cried. “He had a wife and a child and a life, and you just killed him!”

He was instantly on the defensive, pushing his claw towards her to ward her off. “He was an enemy, Ashanti, just like the other thirty good-for-nothings that made up the crew!” he said. “You didn’t seem so concerned when I ran them through!” She was stuck without an argument, having not really thought this through. “How do you know those men didn’t have families, as well? Or do you?” A touch of red appeared in his eyes, sending her reeling back.

“What if he was an innocent man?” she said, trying a different approach. He let out a single, rasping laugh, sounding more like he was coughing.

“You believe it matters?” he asked. “You are under the impression that he was telling the truth! That he only wanted to get a few meaningless belongings and then be off, but how do you know that he wasn’t going to fetch a gun, or a cutlass, and attempt to kill us?” He let the question hang in the air for her to grasp. She gripped the balustrade so hard that her knuckles turned white, her heart near bursting. She had no answer, and he knew. There was no way of telling what had truly been in that man’s heart… but she felt it. Every fiber of her being had told her he was an honest man. He spoke again: “Out here you are at the mercy of the sea, lass, and you cannot afford to take chances! You cannot afford to be compassionate and loving, because you will be gambling your life!”

She cast her eyes down, receiving his lecture with a burning, seething rage. He was speaking from the heart, she knew, and as she slid her gaze to the deck where Mr. Smee stood watching them, she felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her, her mind racing in every direction until all at once it honed in on one, final argument. Her eyes snapped back up to his, instantly locked in a battle of wills.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she hissed. He remained silent, daring her to go on. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel love or compassion!” From down below them, she heard a feeble, “Lassie, I wouldn’t…” from Smee, who was tottering forward uncertainly. “You’re just a monster! You’re just an unfeeling machine who pretends to be a human so that he has an excuse to walk among us! You’re just selfishly pretending to be lonely so you can get attention! You pretend that murder is just ‘in your blood’, like it’s some kind of hereditary disease, so you can kill and nobody will give a second thought about it!” She advanced on him, her voice rising to a hoarse scream. It was not very impressive, but every word was dripping with venom. “You’re just stuck playing a big game of make-believe, and whether you accept it or not, you’re no bigger a man than the Peter Pan you so passionately hate!”

There was only a split second of pause, time enough for only the blink of an eye, during which the only sound was the choking, incredulous gasp of Smee, and then Hook had leapt upon her, his hand round her throat like a noose, and turned to smash her against the mizzenmast. Smee gasped again and ran up the stairs, grabbing at his captain’s arms in a futile attempt to get him to release her. She whimpered, struggling and kicking to get free, trying in vain to breathe through her closed airways.

“How dare you?!” Hook snarled. His eyes were burning red as hellfire, his voice a primal roar, and he had such a hold on her that she was forced to look at him, forced to look straight into what could have been the pits of Hades. She tried to scream, but couldn’t force the sound through the blockage in her throat. “You have no idea who I am! You have no idea the kinds of things that I have been through, and yet you stand there and pick at my character like you believe you know everything!”

“Cap’n!” Smee was saying, tugging on Hook’s coat, trying to divert his attention. “Cap’n, get ahold o’ yerself!”

But Hook would have none of it. “Do you think that, for even one hundredth of a second out of one day, that I am not in excruciating pain? Do you know the torment I face when I wake and realize that I am still on this condemned ship, that it is all real, that there is nothing I can do to change it?” He spat out the words like they were poison, pressing her further against the mast, rearing the hook, ready to strike. It would take only a moment to gut her, to break through skin, muscle, and organs, to twist the hook about and pull it back, and it would be the greatest agony she would ever feel. Her blood ran cold, her eyes widened, pupils dilated in terror. Again she tried to scream, and again no sound escaped her. “I cannot change who I am, girl! Accept that, or you might as well stay here and die alone!” Surprisingly, he dropped her and she fell to her knees, sucking in as much air as she could to relieve her burning lungs. Electricity ran through her, the only thing left to dam the tears resting just behind her lashes. Somewhere above her, Hook was yelling an order, but she was in too much of a shock to comprehend what it was. Smee grabbed her arm and pulled her, leading her to the stairs. Like the rest of her body, her legs were numb, and she had to force them to move. There was an urgency in Smee’s grip that told her she did not want to stay there, and that they would have to be quick if they wanted to get away before the captain changed his mind.

Once safely in the hold, she crawled to the corner, where she stayed the entire night, giving in to her emotions and letting her tears fall in the presence of Smee, who, being the only other person onboard besides herself and Hook, had a desire to stall for as much time as possible before returning above deck. He had offered her a handkerchief, which she accepted despite that it was covered in a thick layer of grime.

If she had felt sleepy that night, she didn’t know. The night passed in silent terror, her eyes glued to the stairwell in an unblinking, deadpan stare, dreading the idea of ever seeing the captain’s silhouette against it.