Chapter Two: Sailing Homeward Upon a Sea of Blood

The moment Smee closed the door behind them, Hook fell to his knees upon the cabin floor and plunged his hook deep into the wooden planks in agony. His breath came with difficulty, and every time he filled his lungs a horrible, deep pain raked through his torso. But the ticking of the crocodile could no longer be heard, and for that the captain was grateful, for her memory still left a stain upon his thoughts, and he could not easily forget what waited for him in those dark waters. Presently he raised his head and looked to his bo'sun, and as he comprehended the concern in Smee's eyes he suddenly felt terribly helpless.

" Smee," he said, and was surprised that his voice was nothing but a breathy rasp. He coughed sharply, struggling to ignore the blackness that was overtaking his vision, and spoke again. " Help me, Smee…"

The bo'sun stood over him, fighting panic and shock, for never had a prisoner of the Jolly Roger been so strong of will as to raise a hand against his captain, and never had Hook let himself suffer such a ghastly wound. What was more, he supposed, was that he had never seen Hook so utterly weak, and so at his mercy. Yet loyal Smee occupied his mind with nothing but solutions to aid his captain, thinking not of mutiny, and thusly knelt with him upon the floor, bringing his handkerchief to the horrible streaming wound. He looked into his captain's face and flinched from the agony he saw there.

There was blood upon Hook's lips, and in his chest a rattle that made all pirates, with their lack of medical necessities, shudder.

The death rattle. Hook was breathing his last.

* * *

Outside the cabin the entire crew of the Jolly Roger stood in stupefied shock; many eyes lay upon the stream of blood whose banks were drying in the evening breeze, unbelieving it to be that of James Hook.

" If he ain't dead already," said the pirate Skylights at last, " he's soon to be it."

" I ain't believing that until I see 'is corpse for meself, shipmate," said another from the sea of ashen faces, and immediately his words were met with a chorus of assent.

" Aye," said Mason quietly, " I wouldn't want ter be the one to raise a mutiny while James Hook's still alive an' aboard his ship."

He too met agreement, and the pirates disbanded, some to the bulwarks to gaze at the midnight sea, others below decks, and still other remained to torture the prisoners of the Shark, who still sat bound upon the decks. The crew waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then the voice of Smee rang out loudly, startling the gulls that had perched sleepily upon the rigging:

" Oars out an' make for home, cullies! Orders of Captain Hook!"

" Aye aye!" came a myriad of cries.

Once again the Jolly Roger came to life, and even she seemed glad of something to do.

* * *

Smee had found it hard to help his ailing captain to his bed, for to do so the bo'sun had to wrap an arm around Hook's slim waist and grasp his good hand; both were slippery with warm blood. At last, however, he succeeded, and Hook lay back upon a mountain of hastily arranged pillows and bedding, keeping him sitting upright so his lungs would not fill with blood any faster than they were already progressing. The strange blood dripped from Hook's lips and was cast outward in a fine spray each time he exhaled, and his eyes kept closing and opening fitfully, like a child struggling to keep awake in order to stay up past his bedtime. The head with its lengths of sleek midnight curls lolled weakly to the side; the silver hook lay still and impotent, for there was no longer any strength behind the arm that wielded it. The legend lay bloodied and useless upon a blanket.

It was there, from his bed, that Hook had made his order: to take the Jolly Roger back to the cove. He had looked Smee directly in the eye as he said this, and Smee, though not very bright, still read the meaning in his words:

Take the Jolly Roger back to the cove, for it is home where I want to die.

Smee had relayed the message to the crew, and almost immediately the ship had given a little lurch, indicating that it was moving through the water again; the anchor had come up so fast it was as though it had flown through the night-chilled waters. He quelled the satisfaction that arose within him at the adeptness of his captain's crew, for the sight before him in Hook's chambers left a sea of fear and sorrow in its wake. These emotions, Smee came to realise, were territorial; fiercly they chased all positive thoughts, regardless how small, from the bo'sun's mind. As though moving through water he slowly dipped a clean handkerchief into the basin of water that stood by the bed, and wrung it out upon the floor.

He stepped forward and knelt by the bed, taking his captain's hand in his own and gently using the damp kerchief to clean it of its glaze of blood. He talked softly in words he paid no attention to; they could have been nonsense words for all he knew, but he felt he must say something to soothe his captain. Soon the hand was clean and Smee wiped the blood from Hook's mouth and chin, but alas, it was to no avail; from his slightly parted lips the fluid continued to creep. Before long Smee had given up and went to binding his captain's side tightly with bedsheet, eliciting a gurgling cry of pain that turned his insides as he cinched the knot.

" Hush now, Cap'n… I'm sorry fer that, but it has to be done. You're runnin' out o' blood."

" Bless you, Smee," came the softest of whispers, and a weak hand brushed the bo'sun's gratefully. Smee stared in shock for a moment; only one other time had his captain done anything close to thanking him.

" Jus' you hang on now, Cap'n," he murmured at length, and for the first time in so long as he could remember, Smee began to pray.
 

* * *

Another, too, had seen the sunset.

He also watched as the Jolly Roger hove its bulk again into the harbour, and was puzzled at the lack of raucous song on board. Quite often he had been roused from his torpor upon hearing it and was very much annoyed, yet as the time passed as it had for centuries the noise gradually grew as part of the everyday tapestry of sounds that wove their way across the Neverland.

He was as old as he was powerful, this creature, and Yekin was his name. He was no pirate, nor was he an Indian; nor still was he a child suspended in Neverland's dark and ageless cradle. He was simply Yekin.

Shining silver eyes watched the ship for a few breaths longer, and then without sound the creature disappeared into the underbrush, leaving shadows like a slipstream in his wake.

* * *

Smee did not find rest with the onset of twilight; he paced his captain's chambers restlessly, his mind- unused to strenuous labour- working furiously. Upon the bed Hook lay, quiet now; even his breathing was inaudible, but the blue eyes followed his bo'sun faithfully as though locked in desperation upon his form.

Help me, Smee, Hook had hissed, and Smee, being loyal, knew he must do just that. And being loyal, he knew that the means of doing so meant risking himself.

Yet, as any dog beneath the hand of Man will know, loyalty hath no regard for the safety of oneself.

" I know what you are thinking," hissed Hook from his bed, startling Smee, who hurried to him.

" Hush now, Cap'n," said the bo'sun, smoothing the ebony curls. " Save yer strength for livin', not for talkin'."

" To go to him means death for us all, Smee."

" But Cap'n… you saved 'is life that night. He owes you a lifedebt; he has to help you."

Hook choked out a bloody laugh of derision, stopping Smee's hand from brining the handkerchief to his lips. " Yekin owes naught to any creature, Smee. It was a waste of my time, sparing him. You must not venture forth onto his land; to do so means death."

" But to leave you like this… do you think there's a…a chance of ye getting' better, Cap'n?"

" Perhaps," said Hook dismissively, and fell silent, responding no longer to Smee's interrogations.

But the bo'sun's mind was made up: he was to pay a visit to Yekin, disobeying for the first time his captain's orders.