Hooked

Hooked (a retelling of Peter Pan)

[T for language and suggestive content]

He jolted awake at the first crash of cannon fire, automatically flinching down for better cover.

"Oi! Get your arses moving, bastards! Pirates!"

Oh, shit.

He scrambled away from the powder kegs he'd been slumbering behind, scurrying to duck behind something else before he was discovered. Diving between a broad wooden crate overflowing with straw and the hull of the ship, the boy pulled his legs in just as the storage room door flew open and a crew member dashed in like a bat out of hell.

He was mumbling to himself, something about the deck, fire, and doomed.

Swallowing thickly, the boy edged out from behind the crate as the crewman disappeared.

A loud crack of cannon fire sounded disturbingly close, and he flew forward, splinters peppering his scarcely clothed back. A hollow ringing sound filled his ears, and the boy stumbled woozily for a moment before falling to his knees, shaking his head to try to clear it.

More cannons, and the ship began to lurch dangerously to one side. They were taking on water.

The boy screamed as the powder barrels came loose from their ties, rolling towards him, and he blacked out.

The man cocked his head to the side, regarding the slight redheaded boy that had been dumped unceremoniously on his deck. He arched an eyebrow at the captain of the merchant ship. "Another cabin boy?" he asked disdainfully, one hand on his hip. That would make this one the fourth.

"No, sir, no," the man shook his head quickly, appearing to be trying to shrink in on himself. "I don't know who he is, or where he came from. Stowaway."

"Oh?" the man crouched, carefully tilting the boy's chin to the side so he was facing the sky. "He's rather pretty for a stowaway, don't you think?"

The man looked disgusted. "A boy? No, he's a filthy bilge rat-" He suddenly gurgled, no longer able to breathe due to the long-bladed knife protruding from between his collarbones.

"If he is a filthy bilge rat, as you say, then I suppose I shall relieve you of him," the captain said, standing and reclaiming his grandiose hat from his first mate. "Rangy, take him below," he said, turning to face the rest of the men he had taken from the merchant's ship. "Make sure he is cleaned up and dressed."

"Yessir," the gangly-limbed man nodded agreeably, gently hoisting the boy up.

"And...as for you," the captain smirked darkly, stroking a gloved fingertip lightly over the clean lines of his chin. "Baron, what do you think the sharks will make of them?"

A chorus of screams rose in the night, and the ocean frothed red.

~/\~

The boy awoke with a start, sucking in a startled breath. He made to jump up, sure that he had been asleep for far too long and was about to be discovered and killed, when a soft chuckle met his ears.

The boy froze, then slowly glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes wide with fright.

A tall man wearing a pristine white shirt, perfectly tailored black trousers, and knee-high black leather boots was sitting at a low wooden table bolted underneath a porthole. He peered at him over the top of a thick book. "It's a pleasure to see you have awakened, my boy. How are we today?"

He squeaked, jerking backwards until he hit the wall, then sliding until he was as far away from the man as was possible in the small room.

The man simply arched an elegant black eyebrow, placing a slip of paper in the book to mark his place before setting it down. "Well good morn' to you too...though I suppose it is closer to afternoon. Sleep well?"