The maltreatment of Peter Pan continues
Jun. 23rd, 2004 09:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrThe first parts can be found here if you didn't catch them before.
"I'm still waiting to be told what you've done with Peter." Hook's voice had lost any attempt at pleasantness. It was all too apparent that the two young men were facing the wrath of a notorious pirate.
"Our…our sister…" James attempted weakly. "Peter…"
Charlie wasn't as cowed, "He killed our sister!"
"Did he?" Hook asked slowly. "One of his 'mothers' I am guessing? How did he kill her?"
"By taking her away," Charlie spat bitterly, "Then brining her back and leaving her for years on end. She couldn't take it. She killed herself because of him!"
Hook was unimpressed. "Sounds more like your sister was a very weak child."
"Our sister wasn't weak!" Charlie bellowed in rage, launching himself at Hook in a fury. "It's all his fault!"
It required no effort whatsoever for Hook to block the wild blows Charles swung at him, and a firm cuff upside his head had the boy dropping to the floor with a groan of pain. "That'll do." Hook said coldly.
His blue eyes were hard as he glared at James, who was making every effort to blend into the wall against which he was pressed. "Explain."
James did so.
When he finished, Hook stood in silence. At last he eyed both the young men, forget-me-not eyes chilling. In two quick, neat movements they were both out cold on the floor. Grabbing them by the scruff of their shirts Hook dragged them to the nearest room - the living room - and deposited them in the middle of the floor.
Scanning the room briefly, he bound them both with cord. Rising to his feet he nodded in satisfaction before turning and exiting the house. "Now to find Peter…"
He frowned in thought, standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes raked across the trees that surrounded the front yard and driveway, but could find no trace of the runaway. Nothing for it then. With a sigh Hook plunged into the downpour, suppressing a grimace at the cold bite of it.
Making a beeline for the trees and watching the ground carefully, he let out a breath of relief when he spied the remains of where a sneaker had trod through the mud.
And the rain couldn't break entirely through the trees, meaning the muddy sneaker treads were much easier to follow. Slowly Hook made his way through the trees, keeping careful track of where he was going that he could find his way back.
The sound of sobbing broke through the odd still that existed beneath the trees. The rain beat down overhead, but unable to break through the thick canopy of leaves it seemed more a distant, steady drumming, and over it the sound of wrenching sobs was easy to pick up and follow.
Peter Pan curled up amongst the roots of a massive tree was perhaps the only thing right with the scene before him. The rest of it Hook could barely stand to watch - if the sight of Pan grown, lifeless and fleeing from him was bad, the sight of the former boy of Never Land crying wretchedly beneath the leaves of a dripping tree was too awful for words.
Hook couldn't stand it. He'd come in search of a boy whom he'd assumed had simply finally found the real world more appealing - as did all the boys before Peter Pan, as would any that might come after him. Only one type ever remained forever in Never Land, and Peter wasn't one of them.
Still…he'd been the strongest to ever rule Never Land. And the most interesting, in Hook's opinion. There was still a chance to bring him back…but then again…maybe not. Certainly the one before him was not fit to rule so cold a place as Never Land.
Carefully Hook approached the crying figured, making just enough noise to warn the boy someone was there without scaring him.
Jerking his head up in surprise, Peter Pan stared up at Hook with wide, wet green eyes. Misery and fear clouded the spring-green color of them, as he tried to curl himself up into a ball and hide amongst the large roots.
Hook frowned, stopping and dropping to one knee before him. "Peter…"
"Go away," the boy said weakly, still crying. "Just leave me alone. It isn't funny…"
"Do you know who I am?"
Sniffling, "You're supposed to be H-Hook."
"I am Hook. There is no joke, Peter Pan."
Shaking his gold head ferociously, Peter howled. "I'm not Peter Pan!"
"Yes, you are."
"I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!" Peter continued to shout in a tear-choked voice. In a burst of panicked-speed he rose to his feet and attempted to run past Hook.
Instead he found himself caught quite solidly by arms as strong as steel, held tight against a chest just as hard. Twisting in panic, Peter looked up into eyes the color of a flower he distantly recalled claiming to hate, eyes he remembered from a hundred dreams that plagued him for as long as he could remember. Alone and trembling, first in an attic and then in a lone bed at boarding school, he'd never forgotten those eyes. Usually so hard, as cold and ruthless as the iron hook he associated with that forget-me-not color.
Except staring up into them, shivering from cold and unhappiness, he realized they weren't hard or cold at all. He couldn't take it, and burst into tears again, hiding from the world against Hook, shaking and sobbing in the arms of a man he only vaguely remembered as being his greatest enemy in a place that, until this moment, he had thought was only in his head.
He shuddered as those steel bands wrapped more firmly around him, fingers holding on for dear life to Hook's shirt, head buried against that unyielding chest. Peter cried until he was exhausted, stirring not once from Hook's hold. He remained oblivious to the rage that turned blue eyes a devil red, neither did he ever realize that his sobs were all that kept his supposed brother from a gruesome fate.
Only hazily did he recall being taken from the forest and placed in his own bed. He would not have known what to make of the man who did it.
Hook sighed heavily as Peter shifted restlessly before settling into a deep sleep. He strode from the room and down to where his captives awaited him.
"So you're both awake."
Charles glared at him, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Retrieving Peter Pan." Hook discarded his sopping jacket, frowning briefly at his damp pants. Resigned for the time being, he settled himself on the large sofa that dominated the living space. He quirked a brow at the cord-bound men before him. "So what were you planning to do with him?"
"He's our brother now," James said shortly. "Since he killed Wendy, he has to take her place. We told you that already."
"Your explanation was rushed. Now that you've had time to think about things, perhaps you can think how to better explain everything to me."
"Why should we?" Charles spat. "We don't owe you anything!"
Hook smiled, mood infinitely improved when both boys paled. "Because you value your lives. Displease me and you'll be relieved of them. And you owe me as much as Peter owes you. If I were making the rules, I would say that means nothing. However we are more the moment playing by your rules - which means you owe me quite a bit."
The brothers remained silent, though it was now from fear rather than stubbornness.
Shrugging, Hook settled into the couch as if he had all the time in the world. "Your sister killed herself. You kidnapped Peter Pan and forced him to grow up. I still see no correlation between the events."
"He's the reason she's dead!"
Hook snorted, impatient. "Hardly. If your sister was that weak, she has only herself to blame. She should never have been in Never Land anyway."
Charles began snarling and hurling curses, fighting vainly against the cord that kept him firmly in place. His face was bright red with outrage. Hook was unmoved, and ignored him.
Instead the pirate captain watched the younger brother, whose face was solemn and pensive. "Your name is James, yes?" Hook queried.
The man looked up, surprised by the simple question. "Yes…I think…I think I was named after you, actually. Our mother…was also fond of Peter Pan. Her name was Anna."
"Wendy and James, how quaint." Hook grimaced. "And why was this one not named Peter?"
At that James almost smiled, "I think mama thought it a trifle too bold. And wrong, somehow. Wendy said once, "There is only one Peter."
Hook nodded absently in agreement. "Do know why your sister killed herself?" He looked at Charles, huffing in disapproval when the older brother only responded with more epithets. "Your temperament leaves much to be desired. I find it hard to believe you were the one to orchestrate this…then again, perhaps not." He looked to James for the answer to his question.
The younger brother hesitated a long while before answering, brow furrowed as he thought about what to say. "I…I don't remember it very well. Nor does Charlie really. He was only twelve and I ten when it happened. She was fifteen…it had been three years since Peter had shown up to take her away for what they called 'spring cleaning,' and she couldn't bear it. I think…I don't know really…I'm older now than she was when she died…I think she was more upset about growing up…" He fell silent as his brother started cursing him and jabbing him painfully wherever he could reach.
However his words earned him an approving nod from the seated captain, "At least one of you can think. Good behavior earns rewards. Would you behave if I cut you free, young James?"
"Yes, sir." James nodded slowly.
"Good lad." Hook rose fluidly and brandished a knife. Neither man had seen him draw it out. In a flash he had cut the cords binding James. "Now sit there," he pointed to a chair to the left of the couch.
James nodded again. He waited expectantly for Hook to speak.
"Now here's a bit of information for the two of you - children like you don't belong in Never Land. Your sister should never have been there to begin with."
"What do you mean?"
"James, you're a moron. He's just trying to deceive you."
Hook didn't spare a glance for Charlie, keeping his gaze on the younger brother. "Never Land is for those with no where else to go, or for those who run away. It's not intended for children who have a home, a life, a reason to grow up. Your mother, your sister…all the women that followed Peter should never have gone to Never Land. They were only setting themselves up for pain."
"I don't understand."
"It's not so hard," Hook said. "It's exactly as its name implies - Never Land. Boys like Peter who find their way there 'never' want to grow up, face reality, and so forth. Others, like myself, 'never' want to see the real world again. It no longer holds appeal. For a girl like your sister, it's a place she never should have been. She had a family, a home, a life. By their very natures that and Never Land would clash - most are strong enough, like your mother, to give up Never Land and grow up. Your sister clearly was not that strong, but she wasn't childishly selfish enough to give up Never Land either."
"You're a liar!" Charles howled in bitter outrage. "She loved Peter! She died because Peter didn't love her back." He glared darkly at his brother, 'Don't listen to him, Jamie!"
But his brother was lost in thought, absently biting at his lower lip.
Hook rose to his feet, "Think about it. I am going to see if Peter is awake."
"I'm going to go fix dinner. If Peter is awake, see if he wants to eat at all." James said quietly as he too rose, and headed for the kitchen still lost to his thoughts. He paused, "What about him?"
Hook glanced at Charlie, "Leave him."
"Yes, sir."
Chapter Two
"I'm still waiting to be told what you've done with Peter." Hook's voice had lost any attempt at pleasantness. It was all too apparent that the two young men were facing the wrath of a notorious pirate.
"Our…our sister…" James attempted weakly. "Peter…"
Charlie wasn't as cowed, "He killed our sister!"
"Did he?" Hook asked slowly. "One of his 'mothers' I am guessing? How did he kill her?"
"By taking her away," Charlie spat bitterly, "Then brining her back and leaving her for years on end. She couldn't take it. She killed herself because of him!"
Hook was unimpressed. "Sounds more like your sister was a very weak child."
"Our sister wasn't weak!" Charlie bellowed in rage, launching himself at Hook in a fury. "It's all his fault!"
It required no effort whatsoever for Hook to block the wild blows Charles swung at him, and a firm cuff upside his head had the boy dropping to the floor with a groan of pain. "That'll do." Hook said coldly.
His blue eyes were hard as he glared at James, who was making every effort to blend into the wall against which he was pressed. "Explain."
James did so.
When he finished, Hook stood in silence. At last he eyed both the young men, forget-me-not eyes chilling. In two quick, neat movements they were both out cold on the floor. Grabbing them by the scruff of their shirts Hook dragged them to the nearest room - the living room - and deposited them in the middle of the floor.
Scanning the room briefly, he bound them both with cord. Rising to his feet he nodded in satisfaction before turning and exiting the house. "Now to find Peter…"
He frowned in thought, standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes raked across the trees that surrounded the front yard and driveway, but could find no trace of the runaway. Nothing for it then. With a sigh Hook plunged into the downpour, suppressing a grimace at the cold bite of it.
Making a beeline for the trees and watching the ground carefully, he let out a breath of relief when he spied the remains of where a sneaker had trod through the mud.
And the rain couldn't break entirely through the trees, meaning the muddy sneaker treads were much easier to follow. Slowly Hook made his way through the trees, keeping careful track of where he was going that he could find his way back.
The sound of sobbing broke through the odd still that existed beneath the trees. The rain beat down overhead, but unable to break through the thick canopy of leaves it seemed more a distant, steady drumming, and over it the sound of wrenching sobs was easy to pick up and follow.
Peter Pan curled up amongst the roots of a massive tree was perhaps the only thing right with the scene before him. The rest of it Hook could barely stand to watch - if the sight of Pan grown, lifeless and fleeing from him was bad, the sight of the former boy of Never Land crying wretchedly beneath the leaves of a dripping tree was too awful for words.
Hook couldn't stand it. He'd come in search of a boy whom he'd assumed had simply finally found the real world more appealing - as did all the boys before Peter Pan, as would any that might come after him. Only one type ever remained forever in Never Land, and Peter wasn't one of them.
Still…he'd been the strongest to ever rule Never Land. And the most interesting, in Hook's opinion. There was still a chance to bring him back…but then again…maybe not. Certainly the one before him was not fit to rule so cold a place as Never Land.
Carefully Hook approached the crying figured, making just enough noise to warn the boy someone was there without scaring him.
Jerking his head up in surprise, Peter Pan stared up at Hook with wide, wet green eyes. Misery and fear clouded the spring-green color of them, as he tried to curl himself up into a ball and hide amongst the large roots.
Hook frowned, stopping and dropping to one knee before him. "Peter…"
"Go away," the boy said weakly, still crying. "Just leave me alone. It isn't funny…"
"Do you know who I am?"
Sniffling, "You're supposed to be H-Hook."
"I am Hook. There is no joke, Peter Pan."
Shaking his gold head ferociously, Peter howled. "I'm not Peter Pan!"
"Yes, you are."
"I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!" Peter continued to shout in a tear-choked voice. In a burst of panicked-speed he rose to his feet and attempted to run past Hook.
Instead he found himself caught quite solidly by arms as strong as steel, held tight against a chest just as hard. Twisting in panic, Peter looked up into eyes the color of a flower he distantly recalled claiming to hate, eyes he remembered from a hundred dreams that plagued him for as long as he could remember. Alone and trembling, first in an attic and then in a lone bed at boarding school, he'd never forgotten those eyes. Usually so hard, as cold and ruthless as the iron hook he associated with that forget-me-not color.
Except staring up into them, shivering from cold and unhappiness, he realized they weren't hard or cold at all. He couldn't take it, and burst into tears again, hiding from the world against Hook, shaking and sobbing in the arms of a man he only vaguely remembered as being his greatest enemy in a place that, until this moment, he had thought was only in his head.
He shuddered as those steel bands wrapped more firmly around him, fingers holding on for dear life to Hook's shirt, head buried against that unyielding chest. Peter cried until he was exhausted, stirring not once from Hook's hold. He remained oblivious to the rage that turned blue eyes a devil red, neither did he ever realize that his sobs were all that kept his supposed brother from a gruesome fate.
Only hazily did he recall being taken from the forest and placed in his own bed. He would not have known what to make of the man who did it.
Hook sighed heavily as Peter shifted restlessly before settling into a deep sleep. He strode from the room and down to where his captives awaited him.
"So you're both awake."
Charles glared at him, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Retrieving Peter Pan." Hook discarded his sopping jacket, frowning briefly at his damp pants. Resigned for the time being, he settled himself on the large sofa that dominated the living space. He quirked a brow at the cord-bound men before him. "So what were you planning to do with him?"
"He's our brother now," James said shortly. "Since he killed Wendy, he has to take her place. We told you that already."
"Your explanation was rushed. Now that you've had time to think about things, perhaps you can think how to better explain everything to me."
"Why should we?" Charles spat. "We don't owe you anything!"
Hook smiled, mood infinitely improved when both boys paled. "Because you value your lives. Displease me and you'll be relieved of them. And you owe me as much as Peter owes you. If I were making the rules, I would say that means nothing. However we are more the moment playing by your rules - which means you owe me quite a bit."
The brothers remained silent, though it was now from fear rather than stubbornness.
Shrugging, Hook settled into the couch as if he had all the time in the world. "Your sister killed herself. You kidnapped Peter Pan and forced him to grow up. I still see no correlation between the events."
"He's the reason she's dead!"
Hook snorted, impatient. "Hardly. If your sister was that weak, she has only herself to blame. She should never have been in Never Land anyway."
Charles began snarling and hurling curses, fighting vainly against the cord that kept him firmly in place. His face was bright red with outrage. Hook was unmoved, and ignored him.
Instead the pirate captain watched the younger brother, whose face was solemn and pensive. "Your name is James, yes?" Hook queried.
The man looked up, surprised by the simple question. "Yes…I think…I think I was named after you, actually. Our mother…was also fond of Peter Pan. Her name was Anna."
"Wendy and James, how quaint." Hook grimaced. "And why was this one not named Peter?"
At that James almost smiled, "I think mama thought it a trifle too bold. And wrong, somehow. Wendy said once, "There is only one Peter."
Hook nodded absently in agreement. "Do know why your sister killed herself?" He looked at Charles, huffing in disapproval when the older brother only responded with more epithets. "Your temperament leaves much to be desired. I find it hard to believe you were the one to orchestrate this…then again, perhaps not." He looked to James for the answer to his question.
The younger brother hesitated a long while before answering, brow furrowed as he thought about what to say. "I…I don't remember it very well. Nor does Charlie really. He was only twelve and I ten when it happened. She was fifteen…it had been three years since Peter had shown up to take her away for what they called 'spring cleaning,' and she couldn't bear it. I think…I don't know really…I'm older now than she was when she died…I think she was more upset about growing up…" He fell silent as his brother started cursing him and jabbing him painfully wherever he could reach.
However his words earned him an approving nod from the seated captain, "At least one of you can think. Good behavior earns rewards. Would you behave if I cut you free, young James?"
"Yes, sir." James nodded slowly.
"Good lad." Hook rose fluidly and brandished a knife. Neither man had seen him draw it out. In a flash he had cut the cords binding James. "Now sit there," he pointed to a chair to the left of the couch.
James nodded again. He waited expectantly for Hook to speak.
"Now here's a bit of information for the two of you - children like you don't belong in Never Land. Your sister should never have been there to begin with."
"What do you mean?"
"James, you're a moron. He's just trying to deceive you."
Hook didn't spare a glance for Charlie, keeping his gaze on the younger brother. "Never Land is for those with no where else to go, or for those who run away. It's not intended for children who have a home, a life, a reason to grow up. Your mother, your sister…all the women that followed Peter should never have gone to Never Land. They were only setting themselves up for pain."
"I don't understand."
"It's not so hard," Hook said. "It's exactly as its name implies - Never Land. Boys like Peter who find their way there 'never' want to grow up, face reality, and so forth. Others, like myself, 'never' want to see the real world again. It no longer holds appeal. For a girl like your sister, it's a place she never should have been. She had a family, a home, a life. By their very natures that and Never Land would clash - most are strong enough, like your mother, to give up Never Land and grow up. Your sister clearly was not that strong, but she wasn't childishly selfish enough to give up Never Land either."
"You're a liar!" Charles howled in bitter outrage. "She loved Peter! She died because Peter didn't love her back." He glared darkly at his brother, 'Don't listen to him, Jamie!"
But his brother was lost in thought, absently biting at his lower lip.
Hook rose to his feet, "Think about it. I am going to see if Peter is awake."
"I'm going to go fix dinner. If Peter is awake, see if he wants to eat at all." James said quietly as he too rose, and headed for the kitchen still lost to his thoughts. He paused, "What about him?"
Hook glanced at Charlie, "Leave him."
"Yes, sir."
no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 07:04 am (UTC)ah, thanks for pointing those out.
Glad you like! I'm hoping to get more of it done today.
no subject
Date: 2004-06-23 07:38 am (UTC)