In his room, Harry kicks off his boots while Uma pulls back the sheets on his bed. "What is it?" he asks her as he sits on his mattress, knowing that her mind is ticking away behind her silence.

"A pirate at the chip shop" Uma starts. "He said you didn't even scream."

Harry shakes his head.

Uma's heart drops at the confirmation. She knew Harry could be unhinged and a little insane, but for him not to show such a basic human reaction as pain, disturbed her deeply. Many thoughts consumed her mind: she wasn't sure whether it was because he was accustomed to it or if the instinct had been deleted from his brain entirely, but the only word she could form was, "how?"

"I know what you're thinking" Harry tells her. It wasn't a secret that part of him was insane and she knew it. But he shakes his head at the thought of being completely deranged, "it's not that I don't feel it. I just didn't show it purely out of spite."

Uma doesn't know why but she laughs in what she thinks is a mix of shock and relief.

"If I can not show it, he can't get the satisfaction of hurting me" Harry continues to explain.

"I… I hate that that makes sense to me" Uma stutters in disbelief before turning serious, "but it does scare me."

Harry's facial expression turns blank and he blinks at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain.

"Even when I was patching you up it was like you didn't feel anything" Uma begins. "And I know it hurt you, Harry. Your skin – God your skin" she takes a shaky breath. "It was so red and it was hot, but you didn't react even though it was just me and Gil there."

"I know" Harry agrees. "But if I gave into it, it would be like giving dad the satisfaction even though he wasn't there. Like he would just somehow know."

"But he wasn't there" Uma reminds him, "and he's not here now. I know it still hurts you, Harry." She eyes him worriedly as she sits next to him. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: do you not trust me?"

At her words Harry breathes deeply and angles himself on the mattress to face her better. "Of course, I trust you" the words flow out of him easily, "you think I would have come to you if I didn't? I could have just as easily gone to Harriet."

Uma blinks at him. She'd got the answer she wanted but the worry doesn't leave her eyes. "Then why don't you show how much you're hurting?" she begs him. "In case you haven't realised, I don't care, Harry. There've been countless time when you've let me cry on your shoulder and you've held me until I fell asleep. And I know things don't often swing both ways around here, but when I ask you, I just want you to show you trust me and be honest with me when you answer: are you okay?"

For a few painful seconds Uma sits in the silence, her heart hammering in her chest. Never had she bared her soul like that, asked so much from someone. Just as she was settling on resigning to rejection, she sees Harry shake his head.

Uma's not going to lie and say the answer surprised her, though she knew what made it hurt most was the fact that he was finally admitting it. But he's still holding back, she can see it in the way his jaw is clenched.

"Come on, Harry. Spit it out" she encourages, but all he does is draw in a deep, shaking breath. She can tell that he's fighting not to cry and can't will himself to say anything. Knowing that she needs to take the lead on this, she motions for him to come closer to her. Following her instruction, he turns to face her directly and folds his legs in front him.

With her first mate now settled ahead of her, Uma pushes herself forward onto his legs and extends her own on either side of his hips so that they are nearly chest to chest. She slightly bends her legs to remain balanced and anchors one hand on her knee. With her other hand she reaches around the back of his neck and pulls him into her shoulder, careful not to touch too far down where the whiplashes start.

At their close contact and Uma starting to move her thumb in circles in his hairline, Harry finally allows himself to cry. Uma wishes she could wrap her arms around him as she feels his arms move around her waist while he cries, but she knows it would only hurt him. She wishes even more that he could cry openly without the threat of pulling stitches and being resigned to strained whimpers and sniffles. But all to soon it stops and he pulls away, wiping the tears from his face.

As he sits back against his hands, Uma pushes herself off him and crosses her legs. "Do you want any rum? Might help you sleep better" she suggests sympathetically, knowing that it would also help with dulling the pain.

"Smells like him" Harry rejects, his voice is thick from crying and he sniffles into the back of his hand.

Uma understands him not wanting to be reminded of his father at this point, so she doesn't push it. But she does want to push him for something else. "Why did he do it?" she asks him. "What did you say to him?"

"I don't even know" Harry says while he gets his thoughts together. "As soon as I got up this mornin' he made this passin' comment – I can't even remember what it was. But I know that I didn't like his tone" Harry breathes shakily. "I shoulda left it – I know I shoulda left it – but today I couldn't be bothered taking it. So, when I responded my tone matched his, he didn't like it, and things escalated."

"How'd they escalate?"

"The usual: he yells, I yell, he calls me the family disappointment, I spit something back" Harry sighs. "But this time it felt different."

"Different?"

Harry pauses for a second and Uma knows that if he wasn't hurt, he would have shrugged his shoulders. "It was more passionate – for lack of better word. Not so much in what we said but the looks we gave each other."

Uma purses her lips as she realises, "you looked him in the eyes, didn't you?"

There was no greater challenge to someone's dominance on the Isle than looking them in the eyes, especially while in some kind of altercation.

"Aye, I looked him in the eye" Harry admits, looking down at his legs in shame.

"Hey" Uma says as she shuffles closer to him again, lifting up his chin with her hand. "That's normal. Of course, at some point you're going to challenge him" she smiles at him. "You're growing up, Harry. You can't live under him forever."

The corners of Harry's mouth turn up in a quick smile before it fades.

Uma's smile fades as well. "But I don't see how you lookin' him in the eye warrants him to do that to you."

From what she'd heard of the old punishment, a major offense needed to be committed, something like theft from within the crew or treason. Looking someone in the eye, even on the Isle, didn't come close to any of that.

Harry looks away from her chewing at his lip, his hands fidgeting in front of him. Uma watches him hesitate a few times before he turns back to her and speaks, "he doesn't need a reason anymore."

Uma feels her eyes go wide hearing that Harry's father would punish him so severely just because he could – just for fun. She reaches forward and brushes away a falling tear from his face with her thumb, leaving her hand against his cheek. Seeing him once again fighting not to cry, she pulls herself into him again.

"He said that I was lucky he didn't go right down to the bone" Harry says into her shoulder.

She says nothing as she runs her hand through his hair, because what can you say to that? So, she loses track of time while she lets them sit in silence, feeling Harry's breaths slow and him relax against her.

"You should get some sleep" Uma says after awhile as she gets off of him. As she hops off the bed, she feels Harry's hand close around her wrist, begging her not to go. "I'm not going anywhere" she promises so that he lets go and she can go grab a chair to bring by the bed.

Uma knows that he would rather her share the bed with him – she would prefer that too. But she wasn't willing to risk bumping his stitches in the close confinement. But once she'd sat herself down beside the bed, she finds his hand and holds it until he falls asleep.

The voices from the hallway started off as an unintelligible echo from the other side of the door. Somehow in the back of Uma's mind she knew they were important but she couldn't focus on trying to decipher them, lost in her thoughts as she continued to watch over Harry. It was a knock at the door which pulled her out of it.

"Oh, there you are Captain" Uma turns around to see Gil leaning through the doorway. Even without him saying anymore, she knows there's a problem from the way he seems to bounce agitatedly on the spot. While he looks at her, Uma moves her hand towards Harry – a silent question of whether she should get him up – Gil's bouncing stops and he immediately shakes his head.

Quietly Uma pushes her chair away from the bed and moves to join Gil in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Uma asks after she closes the door behind them.

"Jonas has got it. We thought you might be in the kitchen for dinner so we went there first, but you weren't there. Then we went to the infirmary to see if you were with Harry, but neither of you were there – obviously" he rambles as his hands fidget in front of him.

"Gil what's it?" Uma circles back, none of his words making any sense.

"So, we split up and I went to check for you in Harry's room cause I thought you might be with him" Gil continues on, not hearing Uma's question.

"Gil" Uma grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him against a wall in an effort to settle him down. "What is it?"

"We found it when we came back from our rounds" Gil explains to which Uma rolls her eyes. She's about to pull him forward to slam him back against the wall and scream at him to 'for God sake tell her what it is', but suddenly she hears another voice call out to her.

"Captain!" Jonas calls as he runs toward her from the direction of her Captain's quarters – he must have gone there to look for her. As he approaches, Uma sees that he's holding some loosely folded cord in his hands. "We found it sitting on the deck when we got back from our rounds."

When his footfall stops in front of her, he holds out what he's carrying. Uma wants to recoil at the sight of the whip, she doesn't want to touch it, but her hands reflexively move out to grab it. Briefly her mind marvels at the craftmanship before she feels like she's been punched in the stomach at the sight of the blood on its tail. Harry's blood.

She stumbles back a step, the air knocked out of her lungs. Her heart hammers in her chest as her lungs contract in shallow breaths, fingers weakly closing around the tail. Suddenly the hallway seems too small, the walls closing in around her. She needs air.

In a trance she moves through the corridors of the ship and up onto the deck. She's was vaguely aware of Gil whispering something to Jonas before he followed her, keeping a few paces behind her to give her space. Up on the deck under the night sky Gil sits himself down on a barrel while Uma passes circles, still staring at the whip.

Even on the ship above the waves the only sound Uma can hear is her heart. It's a threat. Captain Hook – or one of his lackeys at least – boarded her ship. Invaded her ship to get to Harry. Harry who would still be recovering from his wounds for weeks to come. It's a threat. But what could she do?

Her feet lead her off the ship before her brain can catch up with what they're doing. Behind her she hears Gil jump off the barrel and run to follow her. She can tell he's confused as he slows down next to her but he doesn't say anything as they walk along the wharf. In all honesty, she's not sure she can explain if he asks, not really sure what she's doing herself. She only knows where she's going.

When she gets there, she stops. Toying the whip in her hands she looks upon the Jolly Rodger. All lights on the ship are out apart from the lanterns on the deck lighting the way to the lower decks. Uma had been here with Harry many times and it would usually be inviting with all its grandeur, but now it looks menacing and unfamiliar. She knows it has nothing to do with the dark.

Still twisting the whip in her hands, she looks over at the main post and is thankful that Hook had his crew scrub the deck so she didn't have to see the blood that had stained the planks beneath it. In her mind she can hear the sound of screams that Harry had never cried and shuts her eyes.

"Gil" she says simply as she opens her eyes and turns to him. Her tone is too bright for the situation and it sets the boy slightly on edge. "Thoughts on a whip being able to mark a ship?"

"I don't see why not" he considers, shrugging his shoulders.

A malicious smile spreads on Uma's face as she unfolds the whip and steps closer to the ship. "Stand back then" she warns him over her shoulder.

With Gil safely out of the way Uma grips the whip tightly. This isn't Auradon, but she knows she should feel bad about what she's going to do - this was her first mate's home after all. But she doubts Harry will ever consider it as his home again. So, she lets the tail swing.

The first mark isn't as straight as she would have liked but the sound of the leather hitting the wood is satisfying, although it's not particularly subtle. Not that she minded – let the Captain come out and watch her mark his ship. After her last slash, she steps back to marvel at her work.

Four lines run vertically parallel with a fifth slashing through them on the diagonal. A tally – five lashes.

In the reflection of the water, she sees lanterns being lit from the wharf behind her – the sound of the whip having startled families awake. But she's in no rush to move as they file out onto the wharf to investigate the commotion. Let them know who did this, who made an example of the Captain like he did to his son.

"What are you going to do with it?" Gil asks her gesturing to the whip as they set about their way back to the Lost Revenge.

Uma looks down at it, she hadn't considered what to do with it. Looking back at the Jolly Rodger she knows that she would not give it back. "I think I'll keep it" she proclaims as she folds it in her hands.

"You don't think we should throw it in the water? Harry" – Gil considers before Uma interrupts him.

"If we throw it in the water it could wash up on the shores and anyone could get it. If we keep it, we control it."

"But Harry" – Gil starts before he's interrupted again.

"It's not the whip that does the damage, it's the person behind it" Uma reminds him. "Harry won't care as long as it's out of the hands of his father."

Gil doesn't protest but Uma can tell he's still uneasy about it.

"I won't use it" she assures him. "But if Hook tries to hurt Harry again" she pauses looking back toward the Jolly Rodger, her hand gripping tighter around the whip's handle, "I'll do far worse than mark his ship."