It occurred to me during 'Lacey' that Hook has had it pretty rough since arriving in our world. He's not doing too well, so maybe he wants to go home. And then this little drabble happened. It really is just something little to get the thoughts out of my head.
Set after the events of 'Lacey'! As always, would love to see you over on Twitter ( tadpole24_) and Tumblr (wonder24).
Disclaimer: Not even remotely mine :(
He winces against the light being shone at him. Everything in this world is so bright. It hurts. Everything hurts. His body is bruised and beaten and his legs are numb from where he has been confined in this space. He tries to draw himself in, but that damn light throws him off. He can do nothing but glance around wildly at the people in front of him before turning his gaze from them to try and compose himself.
But seemingly satisfied with what they have seen, they close the door on him and he's plunged from blinding light into swallowing darkness once again. Bested by people who actually scare him. This isn't like the beanstalk with Emma. They don't need a head start on him, oh no, he's being held captive for a purpose.
He knows the movement will start again, the rocking and bumping and nausea inducing acceleration. He struggles against his bindings, knowing full well that his efforts will be wasted, but trying nonetheless. A blinding pain rips through his still healing ribs and he lets out a cry, shifting his arm within the rope, his elbow bumping tender flesh.
This is not the life he had chosen.
This is not what he had wanted.
Revenge for the sake of himself is different to revenge for the sake of others and he knows that these two, this Tamara and Greg, will want him for ill deeds of their own.
He pulls again, biting down hard on his gag, sweat breaking across his brow as the vehicle begins to move just as he had anticipated. The sickness swells in his gut, a combination of the motion and the excruciating pain he's in, but he continues to bite down on the gag, ignoring the way his mouth is watering and the burn of bile in his throat.
And he feels the slide. His arm moves a little more freely against his side, the pain easing just slightly with the relief of actually accomplishing something. This world has been harsh to him, leaving him broken and more Killian than Hook. He feels defeated and lost, something he thought he had left behind him in Neverland all those years ago.
He wriggles his partially freed arm enough that it is able to bend around the ropes tying him and remove the gag from his mouth. With a shake of his head he focuses on somehow making his way from the moving room he is in.
He grits his teeth and leans forward, hoping a new angle will allow him to pull his other arm completely free. He has been shamed, his hook ripped from him by the Swan girl in New York. And though it feels humiliating, leaving him unable to defend himself, right now, as his limb slips through the coils of rope, he feels grateful for one less thing he has to untangle from his binds. As searing pain cuts through his chest once more, he feels grateful for Emma Swan, perhaps the one thing he is truly intrigued by in this world.
Pushing down on the ropes, he is able to free his other arm, readying himself for any oncoming attack. He thinks of Emma and his hook and his objective for getting out of here. This isn't about his revenge anymore, this isn't about skinning his Crocodile. No, this is about survival now. Because this world is harsh and unforgiving, this world has disabled him, pushed him from his comfort. It has ripped the power from him and left him a shell of his persona. This is about leaving the world that has made him no longer menacing and sure, that has let him become a slave to this realm, living by others' rules, no longer a pirate.
This is about getting home.
Emma kisses Henry's forehead as she tucks him into bed, taking in the last moments of peace in their apartment before the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach sets in.
She collects her coat and heads out the front door, closing it softly behind her, not wanting to wake her parents or her son. Once outside, she just stops and stares ahead, not really focusing on anything, but wanting to be doing something, anything to keep her mind off what had happened today.
It's hard for her not knowing what it's like having two sets of memories inside of her. She can't even begin to fathom how everyone else in this town feels. Torn between two worlds. Wanting to go home to a place that has been knocked to the ground, but being drawn to their lives in this world where they have built homes and set down roots.
She begins to walk, not really knowing where she wants to wander to, but just looking around at this town that she now calls home. She had moved from Boston to here so suddenly when she could see her son was hurting. She had moved for family when she had never had family before. And now she has more family than she can keep track of and they're asking her to move again. To move with them.
Could she do it? Could she go to the place that they call home? Just leave everything in this realm behind and make a new start in a world that she has no fond memories of.
Well…maybe one fond memory.
Her feet eventually take her to the docks, her boots clicking on the wooden boardwalks before she finds herself precisely where she knows the Jolly Roger lies. She steps aboard as an overwhelming pull draws her in; it calls out to her, a kindred spirit of sorts, and she allows herself to admit that talking to Hook right now would be of benefit to her.
She wants to know if he could ever live here knowing his home world still exists, knowing that it would carry on without him. She wants to know how he feels only having one set of memories within him. Does it affect him, does it change him, does it make him different from everyone else?
It's not a choice she could have seen herself making only months ago, but now, faced with the prospect of having to choose between a world she knows so well and a world she has only stepped foot in once, she feels the pirate is one of the only people in all the realms who could understand her.
She sits at the helm of the ship, staring out at the ocean, wondering what the hell kind of trouble that pirate has found himself in; wishing, waiting, hoping that he could lead her home.