Chapter 5: Missing Gunners

            The problem with trying to kill Peter Pan, Hook decided after several hours of fruitless debate with his two most loyal subordinates, was that he was basically omniscient.  Sure, he couldn’t read minds, at least the captain hoped not, but he could see and hear anything that happened in the vicinity of the island.  It was bloody difficult to plot the downfall of someone who could listen in on the entire conversation.  Pan might’ve styled himself the king of Neverland, but in some ways he was more like its god, the very land twisting to follow his whims.

            So naturally, Hook was in his office sprawled in his chair, legs up on the desk with a mostly empty bottle of rum in his hand.  It was only the first, but definitely not the last.  After the events of the last twenty-four hours, the universe definitely owed him a night to drink himself into a drunken stupor.

            Well, unfortunately for the captain, the universe was evidently best friends with Pan because moments after he set the now-empty bottle on the desk, Roche burst into the room.  His one existent eyebrow was furrowed in what could only be described as panic.  That was enough for Hook sit up straight.  Who even knew that the master gunner had a panic setting?  He’d been emotive as a brick wall the entire Syrric incident.  The entire incident.  Including the part where he got caught in a carcass blast, leaving him with one eye and burns all over the left half of his face.  Suffice it to say, Roche panicking meant that things had really gone tits up.

            “Cap’n, Gaspar and Larimore are missing,” he said.

            “And?”  Hook raised an eyebrow though he dreaded the response.

            “One of the lifeboats is gone,” the master gunner dutifully reported.

            “For fuck’s sake,” the captain grumbled.  “Has Pan…”

            Roche shook his head.

            “Have you told Morris?” Even if it wasn’t exactly a normal situation, standard operating procedure was to go to the quartermaster first.  Most of the bullshit involving the crew didn’t warrant the captain’s attention.

            “He took the night shift, so he’s sleeping now,” Roche said.

            Morris must’ve stayed up so he’d be able to receive his captain in the morning.  Hook ignored the stab of guilt.

            “Right,” he ran his hand over his face, “I’ll handle it.  When did you see them last?”

            “’Bout an hour ago or so,” the master gunner reported.

            “Right,” Hook sighed as he stood.

            What had he done to make the universe despise him so much?  If they’d been gone for an hour, then undoubtedly Pan had found them.  Which meant if he was going to get them back alive,  he’d have to bargain with the demon.  The captain swallowed another sigh as he tugged on his coat.  At the very least, he was reasonably sure that Gaspar and Larimore were still alive.  It was far too out of character for Pan to not take the chance to gloat.  The boy would never be able to resist rubbing it in.

            “Next time, keep your gunners in line,” he snapped at Roche.

            “Won’t happen again, cap’n,”  The master gunner lowered his head.

            There wasn’t time to reply.

            Hook stormed out of his cabin, instantly drawing the crew to attention.  Dark, heavy clouds were gathering overhead, about ready to burst from the look of them.  The smell of rain was heavy in the air.  So much for the good weather.

            “Pan!” he demanded, “We need to talk!”

            The very air seemed to shudder for a moment.

            “Is this about your men?”

            If Hook could go twenty-four hours without hearing that voice, he’d be a very happy man indeed.

            “Yes,” the captain sighed out, turning to face the boy who’d materialized behind him.

            Pan looked just as he had the morning before, tunic unruffled and not a hair out of place.  Nothing to suggest that someone had just tried to kill him.  He was even grinning in that infernal way of his.  Probably because of said assassination attempt.  But he was also alone.

            Hook decided he was relieved that the boy hadn’t presented the bodies of his men, like a cat showing off its latest catch to its master.

            “So eager to play another game, are we captain?”  The boy’s smile stretched wider.

            “Where are they?” Hook snapped.

            “Oh, you mean the two that tried to kill me?” he shrugged, “By all rights, they’re mine to do with as I wish.”

            “I ordered the attack,” the captain said without hesitation.

            “No you didn’t,” Pan said.  He stepped closer to Hook, apparently no one had ever taught him the concept of personal space, tilting his head to the side.  “You’re far too smart for that.  After all, you’ve realized that I can hear everything in Neverland, haven’t you?”

            “We’re not on the bloody island.”  The pirate fought the urge to try to bury his hook in the boy’s chest.  That could come after he knew where his gunners were.

            Pan’s grin grew more twisted.  “Oh my darling captain, but you are in Neverland.  These are still my waters.”

            A bolt of lightening split the sky, missing the ship by mere inches.  An earsplitting clap of thunder rocked the Jolly Roger, causing her crew to flinch away.  The once gentle waves grew violent, crashing up against her hull and sending a spray of too-salty water over her deck.  And then, all at once, the clouds melted away into a vibrant sunset and the waves quieted to merely lapping against the side of the ship.

            Hook dared look away from Pan for a moment to check on his crew, most of the men staring at the demon with thinly veiled terror.  He hoped that the fear would stick and keep them from doing something stupid again.  Because, in the end, it’d be him paying for it.  He shifted his attention back to Pan.

            “Point made,” he sighed, “Now, will you return them or do I have to make another accursed deal with you?”

            “You can have them,” the boy said, expression so innocent he almost looked younger.  But Hook knew not to trust him for a second.

            “If you can find them, that is.”

            The pirate pretended that his stomach didn’t do a little flip at those words.  Oh this was going to end horribly.  For him, of course.

            “Pan-”

            “I haven’t harmed them.”  The demon shrugged.  “Not yet, at least.”

            Hook scoffed.  “And where are they, the bottom of the ocean?”

            “They’re on the island proper,” he paused, definitely for dramatic effect.  “But not together.  You’re have to move quickly, captain, if you want to save both of them.”

            “Save them?”  His eyes narrowed.  “From what?”

            The demon’s grin became razor sharp.  “Me.”

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            Hook could only stare at him incredulously.

            “You have until sunrise.  If you don’t find them in time, they’ll be executed.”  Pan put on a pensive look.  “After all, it wouldn’t do for a king to let his would-be assassins go, now would it?”

            “I’ve tried to kill you.”

            Pan rolled his eyes, expression almost fond.  It made Hook feel as if the boy was looking down at him instead of up.

            “That’s different.”

            The captain knew better than to question why.

            “Alright, two locations, find them both by sunrise and they’re free,” Hook said, if only to get them back on track, “Anything I’m missing?”

            “Not that I can think of,” Pan said, though he still looked expectant.

            “Well I have conditions,” the pirate said.

            “Go on then.”  The boy didn’t bother to restrain his gleeful smirk.

            Hook bit down another sigh. 

            “One, you aren’t allowed to use magic for the duration of the game.  Two, neither you or anyone under your command or influence or order can move either of them around.  I’m not playing fucking keep away with my men.”

            He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, so Pan throwing his head back and laughing wasn’t surprising perse, but it didn’t ease his nerves any.

            “Just one game and you’re already so paranoid.”  Pan’s tone was still light, but it meant nothing.  The boy was the most mercurial person Hook knew, had always been.

            “Wouldn’t you be?” Hook shot back.

            But Pan merely shrugged.

            “Fine, I’ll accept your conditions, captain, if you’ll accept one of mine.”

            Hook raised an eyebrow.  “And what is that?”

            “That teleportation be exempt from my magic ban,” the boy frowned, casting a disapproving glance over the ship and, more importantly, her crew.  “I really don’t want to be trapped here with your mangy crew the whole time.  It’d take the fun out of it.”

            Hook frowned as he considered it.  There was a high chance that Pan wouldn’t agree to his conditions if he didn’t make the concession.  And there was no chance of him winning if the demon could use magic.  Pan’s ego would ensure that nothing killed Gaspar or Larimore before sunrise.  If he couldn’t rally the Lost Boys to move them around, then Hook stood a chance.  It won’t matter if Pan teleported himself around as an observer, but it would if he took the captain with him, deliberately driving him off course.

            “Personal teleportation only,” Hook insisted.

            Pan rolled his eyes.  “I wasn’t planning on using it for anything else.”

            “Agree to it,” the pirate snapped.

            “Fine, I agree.  I won’t use magic except to teleport myself, and I won’t get anyone to move them,” the boy said.

            “And when I say “anyone”, I mean any living thing or force of nature or whatever you can have influence on,” Hook said, quickly realizing the mistake of his original wording.  Pan would absolutely equivocate that even mermaids don’t count as “anyone” because they’re not people.

            “Again, fine.  I wasn’t even planning on exploiting the loophole.”  For once, Pan sounded like nothing more than a bratty teenager.

            “Like you’d deny yourself the advantage if you thought you were losing,” Hook retorted.

            “And you wouldn’t?”  The boy’s smirk returned.  “We’re really not all that different, captain.”

            “I don’t play fucking mind games with a man by kidnapping his men.”  He glared down at the demon.

            “They tried to kill me.  Against your orders.”  Pan shook his head.  “My boys would never betray me like that.”

            The pirate snorted.   “Because they’re what?  Like twelve?”

            “We both know how traitorous twelve year old boys can be.”

            Hook froze.  All amusement had drained from Peter Pan’s voice, his eyes flashing with an emotion that took the pirate a moment to place.  Hurt.  He looked almost vulnerable.

            “They can ruin everything if they’re not properly handled.”  The boy stepped closer to Hook, yanking him forward by the front of his shirt.  That vulnerable expression was swallowed by rage, by obsession.  “You are mine, captain.  And I won’t let anyone, not my boys, not one of your men, no one will take you from me.  And this time…”

            Those emerald green eyes dropped to Hook’s lips for a second before sliding back to his eyes.  “This time, if anyone tries, I’ll slit their throat.”

            Hook pulled himself out of Pan’s grip, almost surprised that he let him go.  The pirate knew what the boy was talking about, there was only one incident that involved a twelve year old, and it was a conversation they didn’t need to have.  Definitely not there in front of his crew with two of their own on the line.  He didn’t need his men questioning his loyalties.  And he sure as hell didn’t want to remember the worst night of his life.

            “What does any of that have to do with our deal?” he forced out, hoping that the demon wouldn’t press the issue.

            The twisted smile returned, though the angry look remained in his eyes.

            “Everything, my darling captain.  And nothing.”  He shrugged.  “I’ll let your riddle that one out on your own.”

            “Right,” Hook muttered, desperately wishing for a bottle of rum.  It’d probably condemn his men to horrible deaths, but he was far too sober to put up with Pan’s level of crazy.

            “The clock’s already started, captain.”  This time the boy’s smile reached his eyes. 

            And then he vanished, though the captain would swear he heard Pan’s voice dancing on the wind.  “Tick tock, tick tock.”

            It was only then he realized that there was no way Pan should’ve known about that particular incident.  Because there was only one thing the boy could’ve been referring to.  Peter hadn’t even been in the room.  And Hook knew very well that everyone involved would never share the details.  So how the fuck did he know about it?

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A/N: Thank you for reading thus far! I've been updating this story weekly on Quotev and Wattpad, and decided to cross-post here to see if I could reach more readers. I've never used Scribble Hub before, so I'm still figuring things out. This story is updated on Saturdays, but due to a schedule slip I'll be updating two chapters in the next week before returning to the weekly schedule. Please comment with your thoughts!

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