This is a little scene for a story I'll likely never get around to writing. (When I think of ideas/scenes I write them down, regardless if I'll ever use them.) I decided to put this here because I think it's funny (which says a lot about my sense of humor. Possibly). So, here you go.

8. I'll Hook Ye

Harry was about to resign himself to the fact that Gil was not going to budge. Well, technically… He hadn't budged in the last twenty minutes, no matter how hard the junior Hook tried to force him to move. Gil stood steadfast. Literally, stood. In place, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. For as happy-go-lucky and friendly as Gil was, he was as equally stubborn. And possibly anchored to the floor. Or taken root. He had already tried moving the blond from the front, placing his hands squarely on Gil's chest and pushing with all his might, which only resulted in Harry's feet slipping out from under him and falling flat on his face. He then tried the shoulder method. Both tries resulting in failure. He huffed and grumbled, and then went for a tackle. To anyone that would have happened to walk in, which no one did (Harry was thankful for that), it would have looked more like the pirate was hugging Gil around the waist rather than attempting to tackle him. Harry dropped to the floor, plopping down on his butt, his legs straight out in front of him, left arm folded across his chest, and tapping his temple with his right hand, contemplating a new strategy. Had he been wearing a bearskin like one of the Lost Boys, he would have resembled Winnie the Pooh.

Gil looked down at him. "You done thinkin', Pooh Bear?"

The pirate didn't reply, but simply got up and walked around the blond. Gil rolled his eyes, then sighed. Hook Junior was not about to give up; much to Gil's annoyance… and amusement. Harry stood behind him, staring at the back of his head.

"What're you doin'?" Gil said with a sigh.

Again, Harry didn't answer; but promptly began pushing Gil on his upper back, first with his hands, then with his right shoulder, then with his left.

"How is it," Harry puffed, "that I'm taller than ye…."

"Two inches," Gil threw in as the pirate took a breath and switched to pushing the blond with his own back.

"But ye still…."

"It has nothing to do with height, Harry," Gil interrupted. "I'm simply stronger than you."

"Yer more stubborn than me, is what ye are," Harry returned through gritted teeth.

"That, too." Gil's calm demeanor was almost as irritating as his refusal to move. Not to mention his incredible ability to not be moved.

The entire scenario was borderline cartoonish and quite comical.

Harry finally gave up and just leaned against his friend, sighing. "Seriously, mate. How're ye doin' this?"

"I don't know," he replied flatly. "But somehow I am."

The junior Hook sighed. "Look, Gil. Yer goin' tae haftae talk tae them sooner or later. Preferably, sooner." He waited for the blond to respond. With not so much as a sound coming from the other teenager, he decided to continue. "They're yer family."

"You and Uma and your sisters are my family. Our crew is my family," Gil finally said. "Not them." His scowl faded into a poker face. "They didn't even bother to look for me."

"They did look fer ye."

"In Auradon. It really never occurred to them to search the Isle? Anyone could've hid on one of the barges." Gil's tone was pained.

"I understand what yer sayin', but ye got tae remember, they were grievin' fer their son that was stolen, grievin' fer you."

Gil didn't speak; but Harry, still leaning against him, felt him heave a heavy sigh. "They love ye, Gil. Even if ye grew up on the Isle, yer still their son, they're still yer parents."

"I always believed I knew who I was. Didn't matter how I was treated. Didn't matter how I felt. Now I'm not so sure."

"Aye, well, I know who ye are. Yer Gil. My friend, my brother. Someone I've known since I started walkin'. An know better than those that pretended tae be yer own flesh and blood." Harry sighed, scowled and said softly, "definitely know ye better than yer actual flesh and blood."

A smirk crept across Gil's face. "Are you goin' soft on me, Hook?"

The pirate gave a half smile and sighed. "Come on, mate. Ye need tae talk tae them." He felt Gil huff and then sigh.

"All right. I'll go talk to them."

"Good," Harry replied, straightening his stance and walking around the blond. "Shall we?" As Gil took a step forward, the pirate raised his hook. "One word about me goin' soft… An ah'll hook ye."

Gil flashed a genuine smile. "Of course, you will." He walked past, gently pushing Harry's hook away, to the door. "Cabin boy."

The junior Hook grimaced. Oh, how he loathed that nickname.

Fin

There was a lot of sighing in this.

Me speaking: junior Hook

Dragon typing: junior hug

I will now be referring to Harry as "Junior Hug."

Uma's showdown with the double-sided sticky tape is coming soon. I promise.

And remember,

Be lovely to each other