"Who is 'her'?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
Suddenly the door swung open and Captain Hook strode in, hair sticking out wildly in all directions and two full bottles of rum in his hands. Mr. Smee grabbed my hands and pulled them forward, dumping the remaining glass shards into the bag. He hurried out of the room and I was left all alone with a drunk Captain Hook. This was just wonderful.
Even though Mr. Smee had given me a new angle to look at Captain Hook from, I was still angry with him. I walked back to my bed and sat down, keeping my eyes on Hook the whole time. I wanted to ask who 'she' was, but I knew that if I asked Hook flat out who she was, I'd have an innocent man's blood on my hands. If I wanted an answer, I'd have to dance around the topic carefully. Captain Hook sat down at his desk before uncorking one of the bottles on his desk.
"Why do you drink?"
He glared at me before taking a long swig. "That's none of your business." He leaned back in his seat and kicked his feet up on the desk, crossing them before bringing the bottle back up to his lips and taking another long drink.
"Do you ever think you might drink too much?"
A loud crack resonated through the room as Hook slammed the bottle of rum down on the desk, making me jump. "You're just like her! Stop trying to save my soul, okay?!" he yelled, and suddenly his eyes widened, like he'd said something he shouldn't have. This was exactly the opportunity I had been hoping for.
I raised my eyebrows in fake surprise and parted my lips in an 'O' shape. "Who is she?"
"That's none of your business," he repeated. Then he snatched up the bottle and drowned the rest of it in one gulp. He was going to drink himself to death if he kept it up like this. He picked up the other bottle and tried to pull the cork out. When it wouldn't come out he let out a frustrated yell, and turned to his wardrobe. He started rifling through it, looking for something.
"Maybe talking about your problems will help," I suggested, trying to get him to talk. I stood up and began walking over to his desk.
"I don't have a problem, darling, but you will if you don't shut up."
"Well drowning your problems with alcohol certainly isn't helping anything!" I shot back, ignoring his threat and continuing. When he didn't reply I got irritated.
"Why won't you tell me about her?" I asked, stomping my foot. I felt extremely childish doing it, but it was the only thing that actually made sense at the moment.
"Because poking into other people's business is considered rude, Darling, and I know you're all about manners, aren't you?" he said, spinning around to face me. I let out a huff and walked back to the bed. Hook turned back to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of rusty scissors. Turning around, he opened them and then closed them around the corkscrew. It came off with a 'pop!' and he took a long sip from the bottle.
"I think you've had more than enough," I said, standing up and walking over to him for a second time. As soon as I got close he held the bottle out of my reach and let out a sound that sounded like a growl.
"Do you have a death wish, girl?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I'm not scared of you," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray me. If I didn't get that bottle out of his hands who knew how bad he would become! He'd already thrown a bottle at Mr. Smee and threatened me more than once. I'd hate to see him become even more irrational.
"Just give me the bottle," I pleaded, holding out my hand. Hook extended a hook and turned the sharp end towards my exposed skin.
"Why don't you be a good little girl and go back to the bed?"
The threat was clear in his eyes; I knew this was my last warning. But instead of heeding the warning, I let my stubbornness get in the way again, and I did something really stupid–I snatched the bottle from his hand.
His eyes lit up with a fire that I didn't even know could exist, and I stumbled back in fear. Hook jumped up from his chair and tried to snatch the bottle from me, but when I tried to take another step backwards, I knocked into the dresser and the bottle slipped from my hands, crashing on the floor and spilling the contents all over the floor.
Hook let out a yell of frustration and grabbed my arm, jerking me away from the dresser and slamming me against the wall. His hand gripped my shoulder and held me in place as he raised his hook to my throat. My brain was in panic mode as it tried to figure a way out of this situation, but my thoughts were cut short when I felt the cold tip of his hook press against my skin.
This is it. This is how I'm going to die, I thought to myself as I closed my eyes and braced myself for the pain.
No! a voice suddenly rang through my head, If he's going to kill me I want him to look into my eyes as he does it!
I opened my eyes and forced them to look directly into Hook's as I felt the cold metal press into my throat, sending a sharp, shooting pain through my senses. A small, terrified whimper escaped from my lips, like that of an animal about to be slaughtered. Hook's eyes suddenly widened, like he'd just realized what he was doing, and he slowly pulled his hook away from my throat. I could see a drop of blood on the tip, and when he stumbled backwards it fell from the hook and landed in the floor.
I was frozen in place, my eyes locked on Hook. Finally, he muttered a few profanities under his breath as he stumbled past me, making his way to the door. As soon as I heard the door slam shut I drew in a shaky breath and raised my hand up to my throat. When I pulled it away I saw a small drop of blood on the tip of my finger…but that was it. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I looked at the tiny red bead. He could have slit my throat; he had been ready to rake his hook across my throat…but he didn't. Maybe Hook does have a heart after all. I looked away and shook my head. No, he didn't kill me because he needed me. If he didn't keep me alive then he'd never get what he wanted from Peter.
I wiped my hand on my black pants and walked over to the piano. I began to play a simple tune, trying to forget all my present troubles as I let the melody of the songs surround me, enveloping me with their comfort. I played all the songs I knew, and then played them again. I played until my fingers ached and I completely lost track of time.
The sun was nearly setting when the door finally swung open, and Hook appeared in the doorway, nearly falling inside as he tried to steady himself. A full bottle of rum was in his hand. Where did he keep getting those bottles?! He tried to take a step forward, but he lost his balance and fell backwards, crashing into the door. The door slammed shut when he fell back into it, and then his knees seemed to buckle, throwing him forward. He landed face-first on the carpeting, and the bottle of rum rolled away from him. I stared at him for a few moments, but he made no move to get up. He let out a groan, and his fingers twitched, but otherwise he remained motionless.
"You're drunk out of your mind," I mumbled as I walked over to him and stared down at his crumpled form. I let out a sigh; I couldn't just let him lay there, right in front of the door. But first…
I leaned over and picked up the bottle of rum. I felt a strange curiosity about its taste as I stared at the dark, honey colored liquid. Did it actually taste good, or did Hook just bear the taste to get drunk? I'd never actually tasted alcohol, except the occasional sip my mother would give me from her glass when we went to social events. I glanced back at Hook before pulling the cork out of the bottle and taking a small sip. It burned my tongue and stung going down my throat. It tasted like sour caramel, and I had no wish to taste it ever again. I scrunched my nose in disgust before climbing on top of the bed and dumping the rum out of the open porthole above it. I placed the empty bottle on Hook's desk before walking back over to him.
"Come on," I said, grabbing his hand and helping him stand. I nearly had to drag him over to the bed, but when I sat him down at the end, he stayed upright. Letting out a sigh, I sat down next to him.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" I whispered to myself as I studied his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and had a hazy look to them, and his normally pristine looking clothes were rumpled. Most of his face was flushed red, and his mouth seemed to hang slightly ajar, but he didn't seem to take notice of it. Whoever this 'she' was, she must have completely destroyed his heart to have this kind of affect on him.
"I was in love once, Darling," he finally whispered. I leaned closer to hear what he was saying. "Sh-she was the most beautiful girl in all of England…but she was murdered."
My hands flew up to my mouth as I tried to cover up my gasp. He turned to look at me with those cold blue eyes and for the first time, I could see pain in them. I'd never seen anything but malice and contempt, but right now he looked broken and vulnerable. Seeing him like this–seeing his human side–broke down the defenses I had against him.
"I'm so sorry," I said, and for the first time since I arrived here I actually felt sorry for Captain Hook and didn't wonder why. I tentatively reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and was surprised when I didn't feel afraid. He also looked up at me in slight surprise.
"It's not your fault. You…you were like…like her," he said, eyes dropping on their own and his words blurring together. It was getting hard to understand him.
"You two had that fightin' spirit and were always so mature. She had curls…like your's," he said, reaching out and pulling at a curl that rested on my shoulder. He suddenly reached up and ran a finger down my cheek, causing it to heat up at the contact. I felt unnerved by the simple touch.
"You both have a pretty face," he whispered. His eyes closed for a minute but then they shot back open and he stood up and stumbled over to his wardrobe. He leaned against it for support before pulling it open and reaching for something deep inside. He finally paused and pulled something out. He held it up so I could see it and I gasped. It was a lovely dark blue dress that went down to the floor, with ruffles adoring the bottom half of the long skirt. It had a square neckline, and a tiny waistline, indicating that it was from an earlier time period.
"I lied when I said I…I didn't have no women's clothes. This was her favorite dress. If you want to wear it, you can. This was her favorite dress," Hook's words tumbled out of his mouth, and I doubted he knew that he was repeating himself. He took a step forward, but his foot got caught in front of the other one, causing him to trip. I shocked myself when I shot up from the bed to catch him. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and used all my strength to pull him up and help him back to the bed.
"Here," he said when he was settled, thrusting the dress towards me. "You don't have to wear it if you don't like it, but you said you don't like wearing men's clothes, so you can wear it if you want too."
I stared at the dress, feeling conflicted. A part of me was screaming this wasn't such a good idea, but...I really did hate wearing men's clothes, and the dress was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. It must have been at the height of fashion back when it was new. Would Hook really not mind if I wore it? Wearing the dress of Hook's murdered fiancée seemed...wrong, somehow. But the look in his eyes was earnest, albeit a bit hazy. The silken material looked so soft compared to the rough, worn fabric I was wearing now, and when I reached out to touch it, the material slipped through my fingers like water.
I tentatively took the dress from his arms, and waited for Hook to leave the room so I could change, but he simply continued to stare at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. Did he really expect me to change right in front of him? Finally, he seemed to realize why I wasn't moving, and he turned around, facing the opposite way.
"I won't look."
I let out a sigh, and began to untie the rope around my waist. When I slipped the rope from the trousers I glanced nervously back at Hook, who still had his back to me. I didn't trust him. I walked over to the desk and crouched down behind it, grateful for its partial coverage. As soon as I took all my clothes off I quickly slipped into the dress. I laced up the back, like my mother had taught me to do when I started wearing a corset and then tied the ribbon at the top. I glanced down at myself and smoothed out the folds before smiling to myself. It was pretty close to my size. It was a little tight around the waist, but it was the perfect length for me. The silk felt like heaven against my skin.
"You can turn around," I finally said, coming out from behind the desk. When his eyes finally landed on me, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened.
"Maria," he whispered, his voice cracking. I raised an eyebrow. Maria? Was that the name of the girl he had been talking about? It must be.
I walked over to the bed and sat down again, Hook's cold blue eyes following my every movement. I looked away in embarassment. Suddenly I felt a warm hand on my cheek, and I jumped, jerking my head to the side to see Hook staring at me with an intense look on his face. I felt his thumb caress my cheek, and I could feel my cheeks heating up even more. He slowly moved forward, his face tilted slightly to the side. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, but when I did, I jerked away, pushing his hand away from my face.
An angry look passed over Hook's face, and he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me towards him. I turned my face away from him just in time and his lips landed on my cheek instead of my lips. My heart began to race as the first fluttering's of panic welled up in the pit of my stomach, and I reeled my hand back before sending it flying across his cheek.
Hook looked dazed for a minute, but quickly regained composure…or at least, as composed as he had been before I slapped him. Suddenly, a dazed look passed over his face again, and he started to sway backwards. Despite everything, I still reached out to grab his shoulders and steady him. His eyes suddenly rolled back to the back of his head and he went limp. His body fell forward and his head landed on my lap before I could catch him. His eyes were closed, and his whole face was red, but when I felt for a pulse I found one, and his breathing was regular, even if somewhat shallow. Well, at least he couldn't do anymore harm now that he was passed out. Maybe he'd wake up in a better mood…then again, Captain Hook was hardly ever in an agreeable mood.
I let out a sigh as I looked down at his motionless form. All my anger had evaporated, and now I only felt sorry for him. I tentatively reached a hand forward and brushed a few stray curls away from his face. He didn't move after that; he just lay there, slumped over in my arms with his head resting on my lap.
I hope this chapter met your expectations, because I know it was a long time in coming. I'm really, really sorry this one took so long, but for some reason this chapter was hard for me to write, and college took up a lot of time too. But since college is over until the fall, I should be getting chapters out more frequently now. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)