Harry awoke slowly, unable to move, and coughed weakly.

"Oh, good, you're alive. Here." A tall, blurry figure kneeled over him and slowly poured a small trickle of water into his mouth. Harry tried his best not to choke.

"Thank you," Harry croaked. He had no idea where he was or what was happening, but he was too tired to figure it out, so he simply laid there.

"Come on," the voice spoke again, "you've got to at least try to hang in there. I'm not sure what happened before your boat wrecked, but it looks as if you hadn't eaten for quite a while beforehand. And your skin is yellow, probably really need water as well."

Harry started to remember. His ship! She was wrecked? He hoped she would be fixable...then he remembered the weeks before. The feeling of quickly losing hope after sailing for so long, certain he was lost. The rest of the small crew had abandoned him in the middle of the night, making off with the dinghy, but he doubted they'd been much better off than him. Then he'd run out of food. The ship scared away any sort of ocean life and there was never any land in sight. He had spent much of his time just bringing up buckets of water to boil to stay alive after he'd finished the rest of the brandy.

"She's a ship," he corrected, "not a boat. And who are you?"

The man laughed.

"That little thing? Well if you say so. I am called...Robert. How did you get out here? I had always thought me and my crew were the only ones on these waters?"

"I'm honestly not sure. I had been heading for South America and I'm sure I got very lost. It's been months and months and I haven't seen land since I left. My crew abandoned me, and I haven't the faintest clue where I am."

"South America? You're...so you're from...hmm," the man shifted to look over Harry more carefully.

"You are in a place called Neverland," he finally continued.

"Neverland? I've never heard of that? What ocean are we in? What continent?"

Robert sighed. "Neverland. It's just Neverland, all of it I'm afraid."

"But— but, what is it?"

"I'm afraid you have likely taken the entrance through the Atlantic area? There were storms, you said? Any whirl-pooling? Anything strange with your compass? Perhaps around a place called 'Bermuda'?"

Harry gasped.

"No! I thought when it calmed that I'd managed to make it out of the Triangle! You mean I'm in a completely different place?"

Robert gave a wry smile.

"Yes, although I can't remember anymore how I got here, I heard that the captain before my predecessor arrived in much the same way." He paused, looking over Harry gravely. "That brings me to another point...I am getting old and tired. I'm afraid I'll need to ask you a favour in return for saving your life."

"Okay, I suppose that's only fair," Harry responded hesitantly.

"Let's get you up first. This is a conversation that should take place in my office."

He helped Harry up gently and supported him until he sat down heavily in a velvet chair in Robert's office.

"I will get you some more water and a bit of gruel. I doubt your stomach can handle much more right now."

Harry weakly nodded and looked around the room. It wasn't anything spectacular. It was cramped and dark, only lit by two small, rusted oil lamps. The dark wood walls seemed to be closing in on him, as did the assorted knick-knacks that further crowded the space. Behind the desk was a large oil painting. At first he assumed it was of Robert, but the nose was notably different, and there was a large mole on the painted chin. The face was also longer and more dour looking, but the painting had the same long, curly black hair and bright, ruffled red coat and plumed hat. The painting, Harry noticed, also seemed to have a wickedly gleaming hook in place of its left hand.

Robert entered the room again and placed a small bowl and mug in front of him.

"Thank you. Er, if you don't mind me asking, who's in the portrait?"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. That was the original Captain Hook. I believe his real name was Francis, but that may just be a myth — I wouldn't know, he lived many, many years ago. Anyway, you see, Neverland is a strange place," he shook back his left sleeve and Harry gasped. How had he not noticed before? The metal cuff covered the end of Robert's arm and was inset with a large hook, which glowed in the candlelight. Harry thought it looked quite sinister.

"You see this? This is the root of the legend. This was actually a replacement for the original Hook's left hand. Shortly before Francis died, however, he started to get a strange feeling that he wasn't going to be around much longer. Then a man arrived who bore an uncanny resemblance to him, and Francis decided to hand over the ship to him. Along with the ship, though, he left the new captain his legacy. He'd built up quite a reputation as a formidable pirate and he didn't want that to go to waste. He also figured his eerie longevity would help inspire terror in his challengers.

"The new captain took on his title as the new Captain Hook and wore the hook on his left hand, although he hadn't lost it yet. Every single Hook has at some point lost their hand in some strange way or another. I lasted quite a long time though. For me it was a croc, he tore it off before...anyway, I think that's how I knew my time was really ticking, I was just so tired, and so I just had to accept...that the next adventure was soon to come.

"Ever since Francis, Neverland has had a strange way of bringing similar replacements when the present Hook becomes too old and tired. You see, I think that is why you are here. Your hair is lighter and you're so baby faced — those big eyes aren't very intimidating — but you'll have to do. I need you to take my place as Captain Hook, the most feared pirate of Neverland!"

Harry was speechless.

"The crew won't mind, and the reputation will keep your from most trouble," the present Hook assured him nervously.

"But...I don't know anything about this place! And I don't know any of the crew or how to be a pirate, I'm just a foolish explorer who can't even get anywhere without getting lost! I can't do this, I need my hand! I'm only sixteen, I've got to get home."

Hook looked grave.

"I know Neverland, and if you are my replacement, it's not going to let you go. You're stuck here laddie, you really don't have a choice. I'm just filling you in on the details."

Harry looked ready to cry.

"Oh, don't look like that. Firstly, it's not very intimidating for Captain Hook," he paused and continued more gently, "It will be okay, I promise. I couldn't remember anything but my name (which, by the way, you are now the only one that knows my real name so don't take that information for granted). I made it through just fine, and the crew respects me. They're good men. As for the hand, you'll probably keep it for a good while yet, until then, just hold the hook in your sleeve in front of company. That's what I always did."

"Are you sure? I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing about anything."

"Trust me, you'll be fine."

"But where are you going to go?"

Hook smiled sadly.

"I'm done now, I had a good run. I've been here for a long time, much longer than you would probably suspect. I am tired, and I'm ready for whatever's next, be it a new world or nothing at all."

"You're going to die?"

"Yes, boy. It's not really so serious as all that after a while. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll understand later, but death and life are very strange things in Neverland. I suspect I could hang around for a century yet if I had wanted," he said wistfully.

"A century? How old are you?"

"Not quite sure. Time is inconsistent here, but I'd suspect maybe a century and a half? I should've died many a time, but unless I want to or Neverland believes it's time, I won't. I was swallowed whole by that crocodile after it took my hand just a couple months ago, and look: here I am! That reminds me. There is one more important thing." He hesitated, unsure how to explain.

"What is it? This place is beyond strange, I doubt anything could shock me more."

"There is a boy. Well, there are many, scattered over the island, which is just over there a few knots," he waved in a vague direction, "but their leader goes by the name of Peter Pan. I can hardly remember how it started, but we came to a...rivalry a good many years back. I do not think it is the same boy, but my predecessor warned me of three others like him in the past. They constantly thwart Hook and never age. They lead a band called the Lost Boys, and they're friends with the fairies. One ran off to your world with a girl who came here by mistake, and I believe the other two must have been eventually defeated by Hook.

"There may be a similar legacy pattern going on there, I'm not sure, but I am secretly a little fond of him. He's like the son I never had. Very mischievous though, he and the boys were the ones who ended up getting me into that blasted pit of crocodiles — most likely as revenge for the disappearance of their Wendy Darling. Another little girl accidentally come here with her brothers. I think Peter especially was quite fond of her. Anyway, you'll want to antagonise him, set up nefarious plots, the like. Don't go too hard on him though, I don't know anything about the others, but I just have a feeling that this one's special. Don't worry too much though, he's the same as me: Neverland won't let him die unless it's what she wants."

"Woah. How do I do this though? I barely know what a nefarious plot is."

Hook laughed.

"You'll be fine, kid. The crew'll help. I'll give you a few days to get your strength back and I'll tell them there's going to be a switch, but after that you're on your own."

Harry felt there must be rather a lot he wasn't being told. The whole thing felt quite rushed, and he wasn't quite sure he liked that — not that he liked any of this — but he felt a little more preparation should be in order if he was meant to be taking on this whole new life.