- a moment to calm down to have a conversation then maybe things could have gone differently. Though Hook didn’t mean not ever again, it was probably the reality. At least until he could figure his own brain out.

In the meantime, he would do his best to sort himself and make a plan of his own.

Those damn words had him bristling with more annoyance. He knew Pan was serious, he didn’t take losing well. He would do his best to find things out but the only person who had any sort of clue was Smee. His little henchman wouldn’t say a word so he wasn’t too worried.

If he could have taken -

- to go sleep. Perhaps drink
himself to death so he grabbed the bottle of rum on his way.

- fire brimming in his veins.

“Even more so. Look at you, so angry I rebuke your advances just to throw things at me like that? Again, poor form and I won’t tolerate it on my ship. Go bother someone else.”

And with that, he turned on his heels and started on the other direction, intending -

Finishing off the goblet, he glared up at Pan and threw it on the ground. The more Pan talked about Mirah the more angry he got, hating how he wanted to throw his past in his face to try and make himself better.

And then he had to mention /him/, bringing even more of a front his face and -

- ways,” he growled lowly.

The mention of /her/ was more than enough for him to close off his heart and push any of that away.

“Bad move, Pan. Very bad form indeed.”

Fingers tightened around the handle between his fingers, dark brow pulling together in annoyance. Of course Pan would think that. And unfortunately he wasn’t one hundred percent wrong in his assumptions, though nothing had gone his way so far.

“How dare you mutter her name and talk about old -

- “Though it sounds like you did work hard to get here.” Maybe a little praise would get him off his back.

- Of course time was different for them and Pan was selfish enough to brush it aside in consideration of his own feelings and no one else’s. It was something he used to enjoy, the coldness of his lover.

“Not tonight, I’m busy,” he grumbled and leaned back against the rail beside of the rum. -

Taking those two golden chalices from him, he poured rum into them with a sigh and pushed one toward Pan. He set the bottle on the rail of the ship and took a long sip from his.

The words Pan said made his heart flutter a bit, an annoyance compared to a hive of bees growing in his stomach. -

- step back to push space between them.

“Actually, two glasses would be nice.”

He took another step back for good measure, popping open the top of the rum and sighing to himself. Turning his attention back to Pan, his brow lifted.

“I’m sure that you’re unaware…you’ve been gone for two years.”

Everything in him froze at those soft touches. Once upon a time he would have loved it, would’ve wanted more of it and preened at the attention, but not now.

He couldn’t.

Before he could step back and make a real problem, Smee was there when his rum, giving him the excuse he needed to -

- that?” He asked curiously, gesturing to Smee for a moment.

“Make yourself helpful and go grab us some rum, Smee.”

- a fist at his side, his hook tapping at the side of his coat as blue eyes peered out at the other man for a long moment beneath black lashes.

That boyish excitement glimmered in Pan’s eyes and it reopened some of those wounds he thought he had thoroughly closed.

“And how exactly did you do -

Oh that look.

The one that used to make him tremble with delight.

But things had changed in the two years that they had been apart, though he knew that time in Neverland changed differently. It didn’t seem to make a difference in the pain in his heart during that time.

Fingers curled into -

- he hallucinating as one might want.“

No, his night was most thoroughly ruined now, any sort of tipsy fading away.

- showing up in Storybrook after all this time 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘭𝘥.

With an unamused sigh, he didn’t let the utter annoyance and disappointment show on his face as he slowly let go of Smee to turn and look toward Pan.

“Ah yes, of course it is. It’s not as if I could have gotten drunk enough to -

The voice floating out of seemingly no where had his hackles rising, the very hairs on the back of his neck sticking up as it settled into his chest and wrapped around his unfortunately still bearing heart.

Damn it. Damn it to hell.

This had to be a nightmare didn’t it? That Pan would be -

- settle to his side, he reached out with his hook to snatch just under Smee’s collar, jerking him forward.

His voice was low and laced with venom, annoyed at the continued rambling now that he was sure it wasn’t good.

“And /who/ pray tell, are /they/?”

Two of them? That was more concerning than just the one potential enemy. One would have been bad enough but two of them, tightly knit as so? Even worse.

Another sip of his rum would warm his throat, settling in his belly to offset the cold chill of the night and Smee’s words.

As he let it -

- rambling but it didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.

- continued ranting.

“Would you spit it out already? I’m starting to think you don’t have a damn thing to tell me or it’s so horrible you can’t wrap your mind around it.”

Though he knew that couldn’t be true, right? What could possibly be that terrible? He was used to the -

And that loyalty was the only reason why Hook wasn’t casting him off the deck or running him through with his hook. No one else would have been safe from his wrath of being interrupted.

Taking a long drink from his rum bottle, he leaned against the railing and sighed as he listened to that -

- quite frankly a disgrace.”

He stood up and stepped aside to pick up the mop and shove it into Smee’s hand.

“Here, clean this up while you tell me about this so called dreadful news. It’s late. Everyone should be sleeping, not bothering my peace.”

“Oh dear God…”

Lifting his hand to wave off the scent of a putrid vomit curling up into his nose. Not only was he being annoyed in his requested silence but now almost thrown up on. How utterly annoying.

“How a pirate can throw up rum like that I’ll never understand. It’s a waste and -

- from his spot.

- at him.

Lifting a raven brow, he sighed and waved the bottle around in his hand, letting his boot move to kick against the man’s arm.

“Oh it had better be quite the concern if you’re interrupting my drink this fine night.” His voice was laced with irritation, not making a move to get up -

He tried to enjoy those last few moments of subtle silence, hearing all the noise Smee was making on his way across the ship. The worry in his voice told Hook that he wasn’t going to enjoyed whatever news he had to bare.

Turning where he sat, he watched as the man rolled over to look up -

- waves crash against the ship.

But the concerned cries of Smee echoed around him.

Of course silence would be too much to wish for.

Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away.

The sound of someone crawling up the plank onto the ship had him sighing and shaking his head. How could it be that he asked for one night of time to think…as if he hadn’t asked for several of them over the past few months.

He took another drink of his rum and dipped his head, watching the -