Chapter 16 – Price of Protection

 

      Billy watched Peter surreptitiously while he cleaned Long Tom.  It was hard to believe that someone who’d been screaming and crying so much just a few hours ago could be so calm now.  And Pan could scream fit to raise the dead, it had sent shivers down his spine earlier to hear her.  It was also odd seeing her awake.  He’d only seen her occasionally while she’d been unconscious, and that was when he was fetching for whichever man was on duty.  Hook had declared him too young to be responsible for caring for an injured girl - a decision Billy had thought was ridiculous but hadn’t complained about.  He found himself agreeing more and more with Mullins:  magic was unnatural and evil, and it was best to stay far away from it and anyone that used it.

      Now, more than ever, he felt drawn to Peter Pan.  When she’d been posing as a boy, Billy had felt an attraction to her – but it had been easy to ignore.  He’d simply focused on how unnatural liking another boy was, picturing Mullins’s look of disgust, and blamed the whole thing on Peter.  Anger was easier that way, and it made it simpler for him to want to help Hook capture the kid.  Then he’d seen her as a girl and his perspective had changed – a lot.  He wasn’t afraid to feel attracted to her and he’d found that he actually wanted to get to know her better.  He’d wanted to be nice to her and had actually felt a little protective of her when she’d seemed so lost and alone in her cell.  And he’d wanted her to like him back, strangely enough, but not really anything more than that.  She was a kid, younger even than Slightly, and not likely to ever get older, being the Eternal Youth and all.

      Not anymore, though.  She’d changed quite a bit and he couldn’t help noticing the changes… repeatedly… every time he glanced her way.  Somehow, she’d gotten a whole lot prettier when she’d gotten taller.  Billy now understood some of Mason’s comments about women when he contemplated the new curves her body had developed.  He wanted to be close to her, wanted her to smile at him… he thought he might like to kiss her.  But every time she glanced at him, he felt the blood rush to his face and he’d duck his head and pretend to be busy doing something else.  He wanted to be so close to her, and yet he was so afraid of her- afraid of the magic within her.  He’d seen her soul, the magic around her, and he’d seen what she was capable of.  It frightened him, knowing all that was sitting right there not a dozen steps from him.  Is it possible to want to touch someone so much, and yet want to keep as far away from them as possible?  Or have I gone mad?  Judging from the conflicting emotions he felt when he looked at the girl, he thought that if he wasn’t mad yet, he would be shortly.

      Peter, meanwhile, sat on the small pile of blankets and pillows, oblivious to the gunner’s internal battle of hormones and self-preservation.  She was oblivious to most everything else at the moment, her attention focused on the man she couldn’t quite call her mortal enemy any more. 

      “Stop calling me that,” she growled, her eyes squinted against the bright sunlight.

      “Say please and I’ll consider your request,” Hook answered as he sat facing her beneath the shade of the mainsail.  He held out a bonnet to her.  “Put this on, Kitten… I know you think it looks silly, but it will block more of the glare and ease your eyes.”

      Peter snatched the bonnet and pulled it over her head forcefully.  “Please, stop calling me ‘Kitten’!”

      The captain smiled and nodded his head.  “No, I think ‘Kitten’ suits you.  Until you can supply me with a more suitable name, I’ll continue to use this one, Kitten.”

      “My name is Peter.”

      Hook arched his eyebrow at her.  “I refuse to believe that any mother would name her daughter ‘Peter’.  Perhaps if you recall your real name, I’d be inclined to use it.”  Peter narrowed her eyes at him but remained silent.  “Very well, Kitten it is.”

      “I’m not a pet,” the girl growled, tying the bow beneath her chin to hold the bonnet on.  Hook was right, it did help block some of the glare, but whatever gratitude she may have shown the man was overridden by his annoying use of the nickname she’d somehow acquired.

      “Actually, you’re very much like a pet right now,” Hook answered.  “I’m feeding, clothing, and sheltering you, and you aren’t doing a thing to earn your keep.”

      “Just remember, kittens have teeth and claws,” Peter warned.

      “And they wear collars,” Hook retorted.  He regretted that barb in the instant he said it.  Peter’s head dropped and her hand crept up to the scabs on her neck.  He noticed that she was shaking ever so slightly.  “Don’t touch them,” he said gently, pulling her hand away from her throat.  “If you pick at them, they’ll take longer to heal and they’ll scar.”  She looked up at him and he saw that she was on the edge of crying again.  “How is your head?  Is it getting better?” he asked lamely, trying to distract her.

      “It’s better,” she replied, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.  She was thoroughly sick of crying, and was determined not to do it anymore.  “I’m not so sleepy anymore, either.  Being outside is helping, and so’s the coffee.”  She grimaced, averting her eyes in embarrassment.  “Thank you… for earlier.  I don’t think I could have handled waking up alone.”  Her face burned, shame filling her for giving Hook the satisfaction of hearing her thank him.  But they’d agreed to get along, and a part of getting along was being civil to one another.  Then she thought of Wendy, knowing the girl would have been happy to hear her say that, and she felt some of her shame leave her.  As long as Hook was being helpful, she could be pleasant to the man.

      Hook beamed at Peter, pleased that she was showing a semblance of manners without him having to force her.  There is hope for her yet.  “You’re very welcome, Miss Pan.  My men and I have been with you the entire time, so there was no chance that you’d awake to find yourself alone.”

      Peter snorted.  “I bet your men loved that – babysitting Peter Pan.  How much did you have to threaten them?”

      “Jukes!” Starkey yelled, stomping out onto the deck.  “I say, chap, are you quite done with my sword?  I can’t fight with this common cutlass.” 

      Billy looked at the man and shrugged.  “Can’t forge you a new one yet, Starkey.  I need more wood for the forge and some steel.  Unless you want me to make it outta one of those old cutlasses… I thought a trip to the fair might get us some finer steel, your old blade was good quality.”

      The gentleman turned to Hook.  “Captain?  Will you allow a shore party to gather the supplies Jukes needs?”

      Hook nodded his assent.  “Aye, a raid is just what you dogs need to stretch your legs now that Miss Pan is up and about.  We’ll go tomorrow morning, when the vendors are still well stocked.  Smee will keep watch while we’re gone, and keep our guest company.”

      “Does Kitten want anythin’ while we’re out?” Mason teased, leering at the girl. 

      Peter bristled, insulted and furious, but she didn’t have to worry about defending her own pride.  Hook was up and across the deck in an instant, and Peter didn’t think she’d ever seen the man move so fast.  In another instant, Mason was off his feet, dangling from the vice-like grip Hook had on his throat, his hands clutching at the man’s arm as he strangled. 

      “Mr. Mason,” Hook said coldly, his eyes flaming with anger, “I will only say this once, and all the rest of you mongrels had better listen close.  You will address her as Miss Pan at all times, until she sees fit to give you permission to be less formal with her.  As her caretaker, only I have the right to use a term of endearment with her, so only I will refer to her in that manner.  You will be respectful and courteous to her, as you would to any other guest aboard this ship.  Anyone else that presumes otherwise will get two dozen with the cat.”  He dropped the man suddenly, and Mason hit the deck gasping for breath and coughing.  “Do I make myself clear?”

      “Perfectly clear, sir!” Starkey said quickly, backing away.  The other men echoed his words hurriedly.  Mason, his throat too abused to speak, merely nodded and crawled away from Hook.

      “Excellent,” Hook hissed, giving them all a glare.  When he was satisfied he’d made his point, he returned to where he’d been sitting with Peter and gave her a smile.  “My apologies, Pan, for Mr. Mason’s rudeness.  If any of my men become too fresh with you, please let me know and I will take care of it.”

      “I don’t need you taking up for me, Captain,” Peter huffed.  “I may be a girl, but I’m still the one that got the best of you and your men every time.”  She saw Hook’s smile fade and his face darken and she sighed.  Be nice, he’s all you’ve got right now, she reminded herself.  “But thank you for your concern, Captain.  I just think I’ll start feeling better if I could have some kind of control over my life.”  She frowned but kept her gaze locked on Hook’s.  “Oberon’s taken everything from me.  I’m not used to relying on others to take care of me and to make decisions for me, but that’s what’s happening now.  I don’t like it.  What good am I if I can’t take care of myself?”

      Hook felt his annoyance at the girl slip away as he considered her explanation.  He could understand her frustration.  Peter Pan the boy had been free to go where he wished, when he wished, and to do what he wanted at all times (except when Wendy’s nagging got to him).  He’d been beholden to no one and the leader of his band of children.  But, exposed as a girl, she was a prisoner aboard this ship and nothing about her life now was of her choosing.  Every aspect of her existence was now determined by two men:  Oberon, who had loved her and betrayed her, and Hook, who had hated her and was her only hope.  It’s poetic justice at its finest, but I can sympathize with how hard this is on her.  But that’s not to say she didn’t have any of this coming.

        “My dear,” he said sweetly, patting her gently on the knee, “you have been through too much lately to be expected to fend for yourself.  You’ve been unconscious for three days and only awake for a few hours.  Sit back, relax, and don’t worry about anything for the present.  Do you really feel up to the challenge of taking on any of my men right now?”

      Given the pounding in her head and her current depression, Peter decided that she had to agree with the man.  She could barely deal with Hook himself as it was.  “I suppose not,” she mumbled, taking a drink of water.  She watched Starkey as he talked to Jukes, noticing that they seemed to be discussing the sword the boy was to make.  “Why does Starkey need a new sword?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

      “Your godfather turned his to ash,” Hook answered.

      “Why?” 

      “I suppose it’s because he had it pointed at the pixie’s nose,” Hook chuckled, enjoying the mystified expression on the girl’s face.

      “Oh,” Peter answered, staring at Starkey and trying to imagine that scene.  “Um, why was it pointed at Oberon?”

      “Starkey was protecting you,” Hook explained.  At Peter’s disbelieving stare, he elaborated.  “When you panicked and Oberon tried to grab you, the collar reacted.  The magic’s force blew you two apart, and you knocked yourself out when you hit the wall.  Oberon came for you again, but Gentleman Starkey blocked his path to protect you from further attack.  Oberon destroyed his sword, but Starkey made him see reason and he left you alone.”

      “No, he didn’t,” Peter murmured.  “He just came at me from a different route.”  She thought back to the Oberon’s story of Sarah Pan and his reason why he was replacing her.  “How old do I have to be to be pregnant?”

      Hook gaped at the girl, shocked speechless by her question.  If there was one thing he’d never expected to hear coming out of Pan’s mouth, this was it.  So stunned was he that he didn’t even hear Jukes and Smee begin giggling.

      “Miss Pan, really!” Starkey gasped.  “That is an entirely inappropriate question to ask a gentleman!”

      Peter looked around in confusion, bewildered by the pirates’ reactions.  “Well, perhaps I should ask Mr. Smee.  I bet Mr. Mullins would tell me.”

      “You’ll do no such thing!” Hook barked, the idea of Mullins explaining such intimate things to the girl an affront to his sensibilities.   Not to mention the fact that Mullins would likely fill her head with nonsense.  By Barbeque’s bootstraps! he thought in despair as a realization came to him.  I have a pubescent girl on my ship.  What other facts of womanhood will I have to explain to her as she grows?  Sending her to an Indian woman for tutelage wasn’t an option, but he did consider sending his men to go fetch one.

      “Yer not quite old enough yet, lass, but if it’s a wee bairn ya want, ye’ll be old enough soon,” Smee answered, chuckling.  “Another year or so, and ye could.”

      Peter paled and crossed her arms over her abdomen.  “I don’t want to be pregnant.  It seems like it should hurt… how does the baby get out, anyway?”  Billy began howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face as he leaned against Long Tom for support.  Peter scowled at the boy, angry at being laughed at.  “Oh, and I suppose you know all about it, Jukes!  Instead of laughing your ugly head off at me for not knowing, why don’t your impress me with the answer?”  But the boy merely cackled harder.  Peter looked around and saw that everyone but Starkey and Hook were also laughing, doubled over with the force of their guffaws. 

      “It’s not funny,” she whispered, anger and embarrassment at her ignorance making her shake.  She glanced at Hook, but the man was frowning and staring off, lost in thought.  Starkey was scowling at the other men and muttering about impropriety.  I won’t just sit here and let them laugh at me, she decided.  She stood quickly, her heart hammering in her head at the sudden motion, but she ignored it and headed for the hatch, intent on returning to her room.

      “Shut it, you witless hyenas,” Hook growled at last.  He turned to Peter and realized with a start that she was gone.  “Pan?” he called.  “Where is she?”

      The men sobered up and looked around, frowning and shrugging helplessly.  Starkey snorted and spoke up.  “I dare say it’s a good thing that she’s wearing that collar, or the Captain and I would be the only two men left alive on this ship.”  He fingered his neck, thinking back to when she’d tried to strangle him.  “I think nothing upsets Pan more than being laughed at, and the whole lot of you have gone and done just that.”

      “I wasn’t laughing at her,” Billy protested, “I was laughing at th’ look on th’ Cap’n’s face…” he realized the danger of admitting that and ducked behind Long Tom.

      Hook wasn’t paying attention to Jukes, which was fortunate for the gunner.  “Where did she go, Starkey?” he asked as he got to his feet.

      “Below, sir.  She looked so upset that I didn’t have the heart to stop her.”

      “Heaven help me if she’s crying again,” Hook muttered as he went below to find her.  When he reached the door to her cabin, he knocked softly.

      “Go away, Codfish,” the girl’s voice called sulkily.

      “I hope you’re decent, Kitten, because I’m coming in,” he warned as he tried to turn the latch.  The handle stopped halfway and refused to budge further, despite Hook’s violent attempts to turn it.  “Pan, unlock this door or I’ll break it down!”

      “Go away!  I won’t be laughed at!”

      “I wasn’t laughing!” he bellowed, heaving his shoulder against the wood.  The door shuddered and groaned, and at his second lunge, the chair that Peter had propped against it flew across the room.  Hook strode into the cabin, eyes flashing angrily.  He saw Peter sitting at the head of her bed, crammed into a corner with her legs pulled up under her skirt and her arms wrapped around her knees.  She glared at him angrily, her cheeks flaming.

      “Don’t you EVER lock me out of a room again,” Hook snarled, clenching his fist.  “I ordered you to unlock the door and you defied that order.”

      “So punish me then,” Peter said quietly.  “How about a dozen with the cat?”  She noticed his clenched fist and smirked, “Or just hit me now.  Grown men do like to hit, don’t they?”

      “You know I can’t strike you,” Hook growled, forcing his hand to uncurl.  “But I can lock you in here with no supper.  And I know you’d hate it if I took the light.”

      “I don’t care,” Peter retorted, looking away.  “At least then I wouldn’t have a bunch of pirates laughing at me.  How am I supposed to know about stuff like being pregnant?  I don’t have anyone to tell me!  I’m not stupid.”

      Hook sat on the foot of the bed and considered the girl.  “No, you’re not stupid, and I’ll hide any of those men that tell you otherwise.  You’ve bested me far too often for me to ever make the mistake of thinking you stupid.  Forgetful, perhaps, but far from stupid.”  He saw some of the tension leave her and felt encouraged.  “And I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about feminine matters… it’s a topic passed down from mother to daughter, and you didn’t even know you were a girl two weeks ago.”

      “And I have no mother to tell me,” Peter added, giving Hook a sad smile.  “Even before I forgot myself, I had no mother to tell me.  Will you tell me?”

      Hook cleared his throat and pulled at the neck of his shirt, suddenly uncomfortable.  “I think that is a subject you should discuss with a woman, Kitten.  But I will tell you this:  you are not old enough to become pregnant, so you needn’t worry about it.  Besides,” he continued, “you have to be married first.”

      “Oh,” Peter said, a small smile of relief blooming on her lips.  “So as long as I don’t get married, I have nothing to worry about?”

      “Not quite… trust me, Kitten, you’re still too young.  And when you’re old enough to know, I’ll see too it that someone appropriate explains it to you.”  He leaned towards her, frowning.  “Why is it that you want to know about pregnancy?  It’s certainly not a question I ever expected you to ask.”

      “It’s why my godparents don’t want me to be the Pan anymore,” Peter explained, her voice bitter.  “They’re afraid I might become pregnant.”

      “However did you come to that conclusion?” Hook asked, mystified.  It certainly seemed a ridiculous reason for putting this child through the hell of the past week that she’d gone through.

      “They talk to me sometimes.  The collar lets them get into my mind and talk to me or make me remember things.  When I was hurt, they were with me, like you and your men were with me here.  Just before I woke up this morning, Godfather told me a story.”  She found that she wanted desperately to talk to someone, to tell a sympathetic ear what she’d been told and to have that person tell her that she was right for feeling so betrayed.  It depressed her to realize that the only person who could fill that role was Hook… but he’d been there for her when she woke earlier, and she remembered how comforting it had been in his arms.  Deciding that however she’d felt about him in the past, he was her only ally now, Peter explained to Hook everything that Oberon had told her.  She recited it perfectly, impressing herself with how well she’d remembered it.  She generally forgot pieces of stories or mixed them up with parts of other stories, but, like the memories she regained while wearing the collar, Oberon’s tale remained clear and sharp in her mind.

      Hook listened in silence, noticing the anger and bitterness that edged her tone.  When her story was complete and she sat quietly in the corner, he looked at her and frowned.  “That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.  When Peter nodded her head, he reached for her and clasped her shoulder with his hand.  “All of this torment, your exile from the island, your near death, having your friends ripped from you, nearly driving my gunner mad… all because they were afraid a ten-year-old would become pregnant?  Are they mad?”

      Peter shrugged, but not hard enough to indicate she wanted Hook to remove his hand.  “I asked him that.  He said it was because I lied, and that they couldn’t trust me.  He said if I hadn’t lied, they wouldn’t have done things this way.  I could have lived in Neverland and stayed happy until the new Pan was found, instead of the collar and exile.  But,” her eyes began to tear again and she closed them in an effort to fight it, “but if I hadn’t lied, they never would have wanted me to begin with!”

      Hook couldn’t find his handkerchief, so he handed her the edge of her blanket.  “Is that why you were hysterical when you awoke, Peter?  Because he upset you?”

      Peter shook her head.  “No, I remembered someone when we started arguing.  The memory upset me… when I remember things like that, it’s like I’m living them all over again.  I watched Liam die all over again.”

      “Liam?” Hook repeated, recognizing that name from one of her nightmares several days ago.  “Who was Liam?”

      “Please, Captain, I don’t want to talk about it,” Peter said softly, hugging herself in misery.  “It’s too much too soon… it’s like he died only this morning, and he was almost a brother to me.” 

      “I understand,” Hook answered, smiling.  He was insanely curious to unravel her mystery, to lay her past bare and discover, perhaps, how she had become the wondrous annoyance that had been the target of his rage for so long now.  And, based on the terrors of her nightmares and memories, he thought that if there was one way to break her completely, recovering her past was surely a way to do it.  Perhaps she doesn’t have to be broken for me to change her.  She’s changing with every memory and with every encounter with her godparents.  Already she is so different that I scarcely recognize her as Peter Pan.

      He studied her intently, relishing the gaze she fixed upon him.  There was still defiance in her eyes, independence and strong will too, and he didn’t want that strength crushed out of her; he just didn’t want her directing it against him.  But what made him truly smile was the hesitant hopefulness she exhibited, the way she unconsciously shifted towards him when he spoke, the small, grateful smiles she surely didn’t realize she was giving him.  She was warming up to him, coming to trust and depend on him, and he loved it.  She’s tired and hurt, and that’s the only reason I can see it.  When she’s feeling better, she’ll hide her feelings better, but I know they’re there.

      His hand crept from her shoulder to cup the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.  Peter flinched and tried to draw away, but the man merely pulled her back.  “I won’t press you, Kitten, if it’s painful for you to remember.  But I do want to hear everything you learn about yourself, and I believe it would help you to talk about it.”  His gaze shifted to the collar about her neck, and he ran his fingers across it, mindful not to touch her injured skin.  A flush spread across her face and he suppressed a grin.  Very sensitive… those scratches are probably more painful than they look. 

      “If your godparents muck about in your mind and give you more nightmares, come find me.  I don’t want you enduring those terrors alone, and I don’t care what time of night it is.”  He withdrew his hand, knowing he’d made her uncomfortable.  She was more receptive to him when she was rattled, it seemed, and she was definitely less defiant.

      Peter pulled away when Hook released her, feeling the heat in her face as a contrast against the cold lump in her stomach.  “Thank you, Captain,” Peter said, hating how shaky her voice was.  “But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch me like that again.  It’s too familiar.”

      Hook feigned shock and chagrin.  “My apologies, Miss Pan.  I was merely trying to comfort you.”

      “Liam used to do that to me,” Peter mumbled, “he would touch me like that, too.  I don’t like it, it’s too familiar and it leads to other touching.”

      “Other touching?” Hook repeated, affronted.  “What do you mean by ‘other touching’?”

      Peter’s arms crossed her chest and she looked away.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      But Hook wasn’t deterred.  “This Liam you remember, how familiar with you did he get?” he pressed.  He didn’t like the look of shame that was now firmly affixed on her face, and he felt dread knot his insides.  Surely he didn’t…

      “Not as familiar as he wanted,” she answered softly, “but more than I liked.  It was the price for his protection.”

      “Price?” Hook growled, standing as his face contorted with outrage.  His anger only increased when he considered how old she must have been at the time.  “That villainous, disgusting…” he sputtered, unable to find a word in his vast vocabulary that could adequately express how much he despised this man named ‘Liam’, “lecherous… vile….  Gall and brimstone!”

      Peter jumped to her feet, pointing her finger accusingly at Hook as she angrily came to her dead friend’s defense.  “You have no RIGHT to say anything about him! You didn’t even know him!  He was my FRIEND!  He took care of me when no one else would, he saved my life more times than I could count, and he taught me everything he could to help me survive!” 

      She began to shake from the memories, more than eight months of her previous life clamoring for her attention.  She’d been able to ignore it before, still disoriented and achy from her long sleep, but now that she’d called it forth the images refused to stop.  “He DIED for me!” she screamed, her hands covering her face as she sank to her knees.  “He died for me and I forgot him,” she continued more softly, her voice filled with grief.  “How could I forget him?  What’s wrong with me?”

      Hook stared at the girl, stunned by her outburst.  That there were men who would take advantage of a child in that manner was no surprise to him.  Knowing that Peter had been touched by one of those monsters was a surprise, and not only did it deeply offend him, it sent him into a protective rage that startled him with its intensity.  If this Liam were to suddenly appear before him, Hook would have castrated the man and shoved his mutilated member someplace interesting.  But to hear the girl defend Liam so vehemently, to see her so grief-stricken at the memory of his death… it pulled him from his rage and sent him to thinking.  He was going to hear this story, but not today.  Today he was going to keep her distracted and let her get her self-possession back.

      “There’s nothing wrong with you, Pan,” Hook assured her as he knelt before her.  “Remember what Oberon told you:  Tinker Bell has been using spells on you to make you forget.  It’s not your fault you’ve forgotten things that were important to you.  I apologize for making you uncomfortable and for insulting your friend.”  He refrained from touching her again, but remained close.  “I don’t believe that any man has any business touching a young girl in an intimate manner, but perhaps I’ve misunderstood what you meant.  And if he was your protector and caregiver, then I am doubly sorry for insulting his memory.”  But I don’t care if he gave you every comfort in the world.  He had no right to molest a child and I sincerely hope that isn’t what he did to you.

      Peter nodded at Hook’s apology but she didn’t speak, too upset to trust her voice.  She avoided looking at him, too afraid that her shame or anger would crack the fragile hold she had on herself.

      “You need fresh air, child, and some peace and quiet.  Come back to the main deck and sit.  I’ll see to it that no one bothers you.”

      “Not even you?” Peter asked, and it reassured her to hear that her voice didn’t waver.

      “Not even me,” Hook agreed, holding out his arm.  He didn’t smile when the girl took it and let him escort her outside, but it did reassure him that he hadn’t undone the progress he’d made with her.  He got her resettled on her pillows and let her be for the rest of the day, trusting in Smee to provide her with whatever she needed and to keep her entertained. 

      And the old man did just that, bringing her food and water when she asked, taking her to the head when she needed to go, and sitting with her off and on, telling her stories or showing her how to sew.  Peter didn’t really want to learn stitching, but when she saw that the old man was proficient at it and heard that the other men also could mend their own clothes, she didn’t mind being taught.  The rest of the time she spent napping or staring quietly at the island that was no longer her home, grieving for it and everything else in her life that she’d loved and lost.