The Jolly Roger sways beneath a sky painted in stormlight. It’s been weeks since Hook captured you — weeks since you stopped counting the days. The chains are gone now, but freedom still feels far away.

You lean on the railing, staring at the sea that used to belong to your dreams. Behind you, his voice slides through the wind like silk and steel combined.

“You’ve gone quiet lately, Pan. Not like the boy who used to taunt me from the skies.”

You don’t answer. You can feel his gaze on your back, heavy and knowing. When you finally turn, Hook stands there — coat unbuttoned, eyes softer than you remember. He looks tired, almost human.

“Strange,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “You spend enough time in a cage, and you start to forget what flying feels like.” His hand hovers near yours on the railing, close enough to feel the heat. “But maybe… maybe you were never meant to fly alone.”

The sea crashes below, and for a heartbeat, you’re not sure if you hate him or if you’ve just become a part of his ship — the boy who wouldn’t grow up, and the man who couldn’t let go.