Never, Never (22 page)

“Of course.” Hook nodded and wondered if Timothy could see the sadness he felt in every part of him.

“This was a good dream.” Timothy smiled.

“Agreed.”

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

Timothy hesitated. “Are you really and truly my brother?”

He regarded his brother rather mournfully, mouth drawn downward at the corners. “I told you, boy, I do not lie.”

Timothy took several steps closer to him. Then, he looked up into Hook's tired face and bit his little lip. “I'm awfully glad to have met you. You're even better than I imagined.”

Hook smiled. “The sentiment is mutual.”

Timothy yawned. “I'm going now.”

Hook stepped past him and pushed open the door, and Timothy walked beside him. At the doorway, Timothy stopped.

“What's wrong?” asked Hook, cocking his head.

“If you're really my brother…”

And he threw his small arms around Hook's middle, wrapping him in an innocent and unabashed hug. Hook laid his hand on the boy's head, choking back a cry. But, he felt him beginning to fade.

“Go to your ship, Captain,” he said.

Timothy smiled widely at him and tossed his hair out of his face, then made his way across the ship.

Starkey approached the captain.

“He won't be walkin' the plank, sir?”

Hook sighed, watching his brother walk away. “No, Starkey. I'm not in the business of killing children.”

Timothy Hook and his ship of dreams slowly faded into nothingness, and Timothy returned to London, and the
Spanish Main
returned to the shore.

J
AMES
H
OOK PACED BACK AND FORTH ACROSS THE
deck of the
Spanish Main
, mumbling to himself under his breath. Lately, he spent a large fraction of his time pacing, as, since he'd returned to the shores of Neverland, his life had consisted of one distressing thing after another. Most of these stresses revolved, unsurprisingly, around Peter Pan.

In the couple of weeks since they'd left Keelhaul, Hook had lost a score of pirates to the boy. Peter's preoccupation with pirates and dreamers thereof had helped him in this matter, replenishing his crew as new pirates appeared every now and then, but it was distressing nonetheless. Peter had taken to sneaking aboard Hook's ship in the middle of the night, and in the morning another crewman would be always lying somewhere, dead. It was endlessly frustrating, and generally resulted in Hook losing hours and hours of sleep. This was all besides the endless onslaught of thoughts of his brother—staying up nights just hoping to see him again, wondering if he would bring Rose. Wondering if, since Timothy was obviously a Dreamer, Pan was going after Timothy next. Hook never did see his brother. He just lost sleep.

His hair was long and disheveled, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Thankfully, those things did something to draw attention away from the shadow of
whiskers across his chin and above his lip. He needed sleep desperately, but that was one luxury he was unlikely to get any time soon. So he paced back and forth, rabid, in the cage that was the
Spanish Main
. After that had accomplished a significant amount of nothing, he decided to settle for a short leave of the prison.

He stopped at the ship's forecastle and called, “Starkey!”

“Aye, Captain.” Starkey was beside him in a blink.

“I'm thinking of heading off the
Main
for a bit.”

Starkey's face drained a bit of its color, but he made no vocal protest. “Aye, Sir.”

Hook leaned over the bow and stared out over the sea, tapping his hook against the wood. Starkey had hesitated; of course he had. Leaving the ship for any amount of time at this juncture was terribly irresponsible.

“You think it unwise?” Hook said, looking over at Starkey.

Starkey sighed. “Captain, we're losing men right and left. If Pan were to come aboard and ye weren't here, well, I shudder to think what'd happen.”

Hook chewed on this thought for a while, staring back over the deep and churning sea. It was the one he'd been wrestling with for days. How could he, the captain of this vessel, take any sort of leave while they were essentially under constant attack? It was foolish and selfish, but his nerves were fraying rapidly. He'd barely eaten the last several days, or run a comb through his hair.

He tapped the ship's railing with his hook, clenching his jaw, considering.

“Pan doesn't generally attack at twilight.”

“That's true, sir. He waits until the middle of the night, and then he kills the man on watch.”

Hook cocked his head and peered at Starkey. “Would it be such an uncaptainly thing of me to leave for just a short while, then?”

Hook knew, of course, what Starkey would say before he said it, and that it would be in conflict with what he
wanted
to say. But he asked anyway, wanting fervently for someone to give him blessing to go, however false that blessing would be.

Starkey opened his mouth and closed it again, biting off his words. Then he said simply, “Of course not, sir.”

Hook looked back out over the shadowy blue waves then, and he bowed his head, resting it in the crook of his elbow. His shoulders slumped and he leaned there for quite some time, quiet, utterly exhausted.

“Don't humor me,” he said, voice muffled by his arms. “I'd be a fool of a captain if I left. You know it as well as I.”

“Well, just look at ye, though. Ye look like half a ghost, pacin' around here at all hours of the night. What kind of a captain are you in this state, anyway?”

Hook straightened, clinging to Starkey's words, however patronizing was the root of them. In an instant, his eyes looked just a tad less hollow, and the color of his skin less pale.

“I'm not sure about it.” As he said this, though, he was already making his way slowly to the ship's exit.

“Go, Captain. I'll hold things down around here.”

“I won't be gone long.”

Starkey hesitated, unconsciously reached for his gun and brushed his fingers over it. “You'll be back before nightfall?”

“Of course.”

Without allowing himself to reconsider, Hook left the boat, pausing for a moment to feel the sand against his boots. The gentle wind whispered through the space between his back and his jacket, but it wasn't chilly; it
was comforting. The forest was green and lovely and, for once, wholly inviting. And the little nymphs were back to lighting up the sea, one of the few advantages to having Peter back in Neverland—the weather and the island itself.

He let his feet lead him where they would and paid no heed to the destination before him.

He walked for quite some time, a great deal farther than he'd intended. When he stopped, just before him was the river, ribbons of red and orange and blue gurgling and spilling over the rocks. This was the river that signified the border of the Indian lands.
Tiger Lily
.

“James Hook?” came a sweet voice from across the river.

He choked. “Tiger Lily?”

She hopped easily across the stream and stood in front of him. She looked harder than he remembered, her long, angular face a bit older, but that could very well have been the shadows on her face and the daggers her eyes were shooting at him. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she was practically vibrating everywhere. Hook was compelled to take a step backward.

“Where have you been?”

He frowned. “I—Why? Have you been looking for me?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she made a noise that sounded like a laugh, but almost certainly wasn't. “Of course I have.”

Hook scraped his teeth across his lip. “I don't understand.”

“Well, you're in good company.”

Tiger Lily crossed her arms, and Hook stepped forward and threw his hand and hook into the air. “Tiger Lily, last time we saw each other, I gored you. You left. What more could you possibly want to say to me?”

She coughed out an irritated breath, and Hook was torn between wanting to back away for his safety, and wanting to get closer for his sanity.

“Of course I left, James, you dolt,” she spat. “You
stabbed
me
. I needed medical attention. Would you have preferred I'd stayed and bled out on your floor?”

Hook fumbled for something to say. Unfortunately, though he'd rehearsed his piece in this conversation many times, at no point had he prepared a response for this reaction.

“I—I had no idea. I thought…” His general eloquence was reduced to inelegant sentence fragments. It was impossible to think clearly around the woman.

“Thought what, exactly?” Tiger Lily uncrossed her arms and let them dangle at her sides.

He fiddled with his hook, staring down at it, then back up at her, forgetting to breathe just for a second when her beautiful, angry eyes flashed at him. “I thought you were through with me.”

She shook her head and looked up at the sky. Then, she turned away from him, digging her heels into the ground. “You're a fool, James Hook.”

Hook reached his hand out to her, this close to touching her, then drew it back. He was at an absolute loss, and found that he was in something of a panic.

“Tiger Lily, I am truly sorry,” he said, the deepest kind of fear washing over him.

She did not turn, and he stood, breaths shallow, staring at her back in the clearing. He could feel the space between them like it was solid. Electric, tempting him to cross it, terrifying him into staying put. This was ridiculous. Managing a crew of pirates, he did with ease. But managing a woman was something else entirely.

“Where have you been?” she said quietly, back still turned to him.

Hook blew out a breath. He would not lie to her. “Keelhaul.”

Tiger Lily spun around and jealousy flashed across her face. She took several long steps toward him, nostrils flaring. “Keelhaul?”

“Indeed.”

Her voice lowered, and she stared up at him, inches from his face, eyes wide and unblinking and pensive. “You've finally done it, then.”

“Done what?” Hook's pulse jumped, skin hot with the nearness of her. He stepped just an inch closer to her, and she stood her ground.

“Become a pirate.”

He paused, then said, voice rough, “I have always been a pirate.”

Tiger Lily shifted so that her chest was almost touching his and looked into his eyes, lips parting. He was overcome with the need to taste them. But suddenly, she turned away from him and cocked her head. She was staring at something through the trees, something that Hook could not see. Hook let out a breath, shoulders relaxing when she moved away.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

“Hear what?”

She did not answer. She simply walked toward the sound that Hook couldn't hear, and he could do nothing but follow her. It wasn't long before Hook picked it up as well. The sound was haunting and beautiful, like nothing else he'd ever heard. He knew in a beat that it was the mermaids.

The lagoon was quite a ways away, too far away for their voices to reasonably carry, but mermaids had a way of doing impossible things, Hook had found. Their voices were ethereal and smooth, like they came from the spirits of bells.

Tiger Lily walked slowly and sat in the silvery blue leaves, wrapping her arms around her knees. Then, she closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the sky, entranced and smiling softly. His breath caught when he saw her that way, and he stopped walking.

The moons had just risen, bringing a soft glow to her face, silhouetting her body. Hook couldn't help but hold his hand out to her. It trembled just slightly as he waited for her.

She opened her eyes and stared up into his. The coldness was gone, replaced with a sort of enchantment. And she gave him her small hand. He pulled her up and drew her to him, heart racing as he pressed her body to his. He slid his hand down to her waist and to the small of her back. Then, gaze never breaking hers, he drew her arm gently out, raising a trail of goose bumps he knew were not from the cold, and encircled her hand with his hook. She did not shrink away from the metal; she just wrapped her fingers around it.

Hook stared into her eyes and stepped. She stumbled a bit, and he smiled. Then, he stepped again, and she followed. They spun in slow circles around the clearing, moons illuminating everything. He lifted his hook and spun her once, then brought her to his chest, pulling her much harder and closer than she'd been before. He could feel the little catch of her breath, the pounding thrum of her heart against his, and he was at once petrified and at peace.

It was a dark waltz, made of haunting voices and forbidden touches and hidden desire. Hook pressed his fingers into her back and led her in the dance. Then, he brought his face against her cheek, intoxicated by her nearness, relishing the sweet scent of her. His long hair fell into hers, and they tangled together. Hook did not know why this pleased him so.

“Your hair is longer,” Tiger Lily said, and her voice was hoarse.

“Long hair is the mark of a pirate and a fiend,” he whispered low into her ear, lips brushing against it. “Both of which I am.”

She shivered, and he grinned. He continued to spin her slowly, thoughts of her pounding heart and flushed cheeks rushing through his mind, and the sirens' music began to fade. He drew back. His heart skipped when he saw that her eyes were closed and her lips were just barely parted. He reached out his fingers and ran them along her jaw. She leaned into his hand, and heat flooded over him. Tiger Lily opened her eyes and looked into his, then, and unveiled something that he'd only hoped was hidden there before. In her eyes was wanting, and then it turned to a need.

Hook could barely think, barely breathe, not with her looking at him that way. He glided his fingers up to her cheek and rested them there. Without giving himself time enough to reconsider, he bent until their faces were a breath away from each other. Electricity jumped back and forth in that little agonizing space between them. And then, he touched his lips to hers. When her mouth yielded to his, a flare went through him, and he knit his fingers in her hair and kissed her deeply, slowly, in a way that he'd never kissed any of the nameless women on Keelhaul, or Malena, or Susan Weaver.

It was a kiss made of longing, and passion, and hunger, and it sent shivers all over him. When she clasped her hands around his neck, he drew her even closer to him, wanting to be a part of her, and she gasped at that, in the midst of the kiss, breathing him in. The thing that hypnotized him was the craving he felt in her lips; she wanted him too. He ran his hand down to her collarbone, and his hook down her arm, and she shuddered lightly.