Chapter 29 - Hook's Wrath

 

      Peter made no further escape attempts for the rest of the short journey back to the ship, but not from a lack of will.  Once she determined that she could not dislodge Hook’s foot from her back, she ceased her flailing and lay still, conserving her strength for the next opportunity to present itself.  She hurt, worse than she’d hurt in quite awhile, but the pain was nothing she couldn’t deal with.  Her arm was in agony where the claw had gouged her, throbbing and hot.  Her head ached, and overwhelming nausea gripped her from the boat’s unceasing sway.  The rest of her was chilled by the night air, her soaking wet dress offering her no warmth.  But these bodily miseries paled in comparison to the misery in her heart at having failed her escape, tinged by a gnawing fear of Hook’s wrath. 

      Peter heard the men’s rowing cease and felt the boat shift as the pirates fastened the lines and climbed a ladder up the side of the ship to man the davit.  Peter waited for Hook to remove his foot and pull her out of the boat, but the man continued to sit in unmoving silence.  A seeming eternity later the boat jerked and began to rise, the pirates hauling it into its berth with their captain and prisoner still aboard.  It wasn’t until the longboat was secured and Peter heard Mason give the all-clear before Hook moved.  The girl tensed and waited for her chance to try again.

      Hook’s large hand grasped the back of her dress and hauled her upright with no more consideration than if she’d been a sack of flour.  Peter winced, as much at the pain in her arm as the nausea from the sudden motion.  The longboat swayed slightly in its berth, making her world spin even more.  Peter wondered for an instant if Hook intended to carry her to the deck, or if he’d let her go long enough to climb down on her own.  If he would only let go, just for a moment, she could dive back into the sea…

      “Mason!” Hook bellowed, pulling the girl before him roughly.  “Catch!” 

      The grip on the nape of her shirt tightened, and she felt the man’s hook snag the material at her waist.  He lifted her up by the dual holds on her clothing, suspending her in a most undignified manner.  Just as she realized what the man intended to do, she found herself flying through the air towards Mason, who had his arms out to catch her.  As she fell into his waiting grasp, Peter brought up her fists and slammed her metal cuffs into Mason’s temple as hard as she could.  The large pirate dropped like a stone beneath her and she found herself sprawled atop his bulk.  She immediately rolled off the man and clambered to her feet, eyes darting about as she marked where each pirate stood and calculated her options. 

      “PAN!” Hook roared as he leapt from the longboat to land upon the deck, and the girl flinched in the face of his rage.  She turned quickly, gimping her stride to run as fast as her fettered legs would allow her. 

      Starkey jumped in front of her, blocking her path and forcing Peter to alter her course.  She turned to her left to find Jukes standing there with a net in his hands, his eyes glittering angrily and a small grin on his face.  A quick glance in the opposite direction showed Mullins standing there.  Cookson and Smee joined the circle, further closing her avenues of escape.  She was surrounded. 

      “Starkey, Jukes, please!” Peter urged, trying to find a way out of the trap.  “He’s going to kill me!” 

      The gunner’s eyes darted to the dark stain on the sleeve of her dress before returning to her injured face.  His own face throbbed in sympathy, but that sympathy barely touched his heart.  Billy didn’t think Hook would really kill her, probably wouldn’t even hurt her much… not if she found some sense and quit fighting the man.  If she continued to provoke him, then she only had herself to blame for what the captain did to her.  Hook quickly disabused Jukes and the rest of the men of any notions that he might go easy on the girl.

      “Oh, I can do much worse than kill you,” Hook snarled, coming up behind Peter and grabbing a fistful of her hair before she could turn to face him.  He yanked as hard as he could, making her stumble back and cry out.  He turned around and strode quickly towards the mainmast, dragging Peter along behind him.  The girl gripped his arm, protesting the agony in her scalp and trying unsuccessfully to get her feet under her so that she could walk. 

      Upon reaching the mast, Peter found herself unceremoniously shoved against it so that her cheek was pressed firmly against the wood, the hand gripping her hair keeping her head pinned in place.  Peter heard Smee shout, “Cap’n, don’t!” and in her periphery she saw Hook’s claw arcing down towards her.  Desperately trying to find some way to slip out of Hook’s hold, she screamed, frightened, when the cruel steel sliced through the back of her dress.  Even as she realized that her skin was still intact, the claw came down again, rending the material even more.  In a few brutal swipes, the back of Peter’s shift was destroyed, laying open the cloth to expose her skin.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” Peter yelled, indignant, her heart hammering wildly. 

      Hook merely continued to glare at her without answering, too upset to speak.  She’d find out soon enough what he was doing, and she’d learn the consequences of her defiance.  She’d manipulated him from the start, just like a woman, and it was no longer merely amusing.  She’d gone too far this time.  She’d used his regard for the fairer sex against him to keep him from killing her.  She’d fed him tales of how terribly she’d been treated to garner his sympathy.  She’d pretended to accept her lot here to lull him into trusting her.  She’d made him care, the most grievous of her crimes.  She’d taken his trust and spat upon it, she’d used his feelings to hurt him deeply, and now she was going to pay.  No one made a fool of James Hook and got away with it; very few lived to regret it.

      He jerked her away from the mast just long enough to snag the manacles on her wrists and wrench her arms above her head.  Peter gave a pained cry and tried to pull away, but the captain easily overpowered her and held her still. He looped the chain over a hook on the mast just above her head and let her go.

      Peter pivoted about to put her exposed back against the mast, elbows level with her nose and hands above her head, warily watching the man while she tried to tug her restraints free.  But try as she might, she couldn’t quite get the right leverage to lift the chains off of the hook.  Her injured arm screamed with pain, hampering her movements, but she continued her efforts with increasing desperation when she saw the man remove the cat’o’nine from his belt.

      “Unless you want me to mar that pretty face, Pan,” Hook sneered as he gave the cat a few test flicks, “you had best show me your back.”  He raised his arm threateningly, too angry to care if she turned or not.  The men began to mutter when they saw Hook’s intentions, uncomfortable with the idea of seeing a young girl flogged, but none of them dared to try and stop the man.

      Peter spun about quickly, seeing the vicious glint in the man’s eye and realizing that he was indeed going to strike her.  She heard a resounding crack as soon as her chest was to the mast, the sound coupled with a sudden searing agony across her back.  It felt as if the flesh was being flayed from her bones, and she didn’t even try to bite back her scream.  The cat struck again and Peter’s cry ended in a choked gasp as the force of the blow drove the air from her lungs.  A third blow fell and then a fourth before Peter found her voice once more.  Agonized and shrill, she screamed her hurt for all of Neverland to hear.

      Hook paused after the sixth strike, the girl’s frenzied shrieks dampening his rage to a more controllable blaze.  His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the welts and shallow cuts he’d inflicted, contemplating if her punishment was sufficient or if she warranted more.  He wanted to hurt her, yes, but he didn’t want to cause her too much bodily damage.  The girl was wailing now, great wrenching sounds that made his lips twist into a satisfied sneer.  She was damned lucky he wasn’t using his old cat’o’nine, a vicious flog that had barbs on the tips of its tassels, made for shredding the hide off the toughest seaman’s back.  But victims of that cat’s scratch were prone to dying of infection, and his current shortage of crew had forced him to lighten his punishments considerably.  One lick from that and she’d beg me for forgiveness, wholeheartedly pledging her obedience to me.   She’d betrayed him, she’d hurt him, and she deserved to suffer horribly… Hook shook himself, pushing away his barbarous thoughts.  I won’t kill her and I won’t scar her.  But I will teach her a lesson, one that she will never forget. 

      “Have you anything to say for yourself, Pan?” Hook demanded.  “Perhaps you’d like to apologize?”  The girl didn’t answer or even acknowledge she’d heard him, so Hook tucked the flail away and took a step closer.  He laid his hand on her shoulder and took a closer look at the marks on her back.  It was difficult to determine their severity in the moonlight, but a few of the cuts were bleeding, indicating he’d hit her harder than he probably should have.  Even as the logical portion of his mind acknowledged that fact, knowing that it was inappropriate to flog a young girl in this manner, the pirate in him reveled in the pain he’d inflicted, savoring her sobs, and hungered to hurt her more.

      Hook squeezed her shoulder gently and leaned closer, ensuring she would hear him this time.  “Say you’re sorry, Pan, and that you’ll never defy me again, and this will be over.  Smee will take you to your room and doctor your wounds.”

      Peter went still, her cries ceasing as a jolt of panic shot through her.  Hook was too close… he hurt me, he’s gonna hurt me, get away I have to get away let go… “Let me go!” she yelled, shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to shake off his hold.  The man let go and stepped back again, giving Peter room to turn around and face her enemy.  Her back was a mass of suffering, burning and throbbing, and her instincts warned her to keep her injuries away from the one who’d attacked her.  Her panic gave way to anger when she looked up at Hook and saw the man’s cruel smile.  “You villainous, sadistic, misbegotten son of a…”

      “Now, now, Pan,” Hook chided, anger pulsing beneath his calm façade.  It was satisfying, however, to see the tears that shimmered in the moonlight as they pooled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, and it was her tears that kept him from slitting her throat and being done with the whole sorry affair.  “That’s not the way to say it at all.  You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a sorry little ingrate, Captain.  Please forgive me for spitting upon your good will and for betraying your trust.  I promise I’ll be good from now on and obey you like a proper young lady should.’”

      “You’re out of your mind,” Peter snarled.  “I’m not apologizing to you!  I’m not sorry for trying to get away, and I’ll keep trying until I do!  I want to go home!  You’ve no right to keep me prisoner!”

      “Prisoner?” Hook repeated in surprise, the girl’s words adding insult to injury.  “Prisoner!  You think I’ve kept you here as a prisoner?  I was your sanctuary!  I took you in when no one else wanted you and I gave you comfort when no one else cared!  I knew you were short on memory, Pan, but surely you recall what it is like to be a prisoner on my ship!”

      “You don’t care about me, so don’t even pretend!” Peter retorted.  “You’re a heartless pirate!”

      Hook barely held his control, but his anger deepened considerable and muted any pity he might have spared for her.  Her words shouldn’t have upset him, he was quite proud of his reputation as a pirate, but her accusations that he’d not cared about her, that he’d held her here against her will all this time, incensed him.  He felt himself a fool for it now, but he had cared, and even after her collar had been removed, he’d trusted her enough that he hadn’t even thought about restraining her.  He’d not considered her a prisoner since their compromise, when she’d promised to behave as long as he didn’t keep her confined.

      “I’ll show you heartlessness, Pan!” he snarled as he snatched at her manacles, unhooking the chain from the mast and jerking the girl towards him.  He glared into her eyes, noting the defiance within them as she glared back at him.  “I’ll remind you what it is to be a prisoner of Captain James Hook!”  He turned on his heel, pulling the girl along behind him as he strode for the hatch, barking at Mason and Mullins to follow. 

      When they reached Peter’s cabin, Hook shoved the girl into the far corner of the room.  Peter cried out as her back slammed into the wall, fresh tears springing to her eyes.  She remained in the corner, watching the men warily and waiting for any opportunity to escape even though she knew it was hopeless now.  She’d tried and failed, and there was nothing for it now but to deal with whatever consequences Hook had in mind.

      Hook surveyed the room, his gaze falling upon the emerald earrings lying on the vanity.  He snatched them up, clutching them tightly for a moment before tucking them away safely into the pocket of his breeches.  I was abysmally foolish to have given them to her.  She isn’t worthy of even saying Mater’s name, much less wearing her heirlooms.  “Empty this room, men.  If Pan fancies herself a prisoner aboard my ship, then we’ll return her to the conditions she endured when she first came aboard.  Take everything, down to the last blanket, and have Jukes fetch me a leash.”

      “What are you doing?” Peter asked, glancing at the men as they began hauling the chairs and table through the door.  Maybe I can slip by Hook while they’re gone, she mused, but Hook remained rooted in the middle of the room between her and the door, glowering at her darkly.  She kept a close watch on him, maintaining a defensive stance in case he decided to hit her again.  It had been quite some time since she’d seen the man this furious.  After weeks of civility, it was quite a shock to see him once more as the cruel pirate he truly was.  For Peter it was affirmation that she’d made the right decision in trying to escape.  Hook was not to be trusted and she’d never make that mistake again.

      “I gave you every possible comfort, Pan, and you spat on my gifts,” Hook replied lowly, his voice cold and calm.  “Therefore, I’m taking them all back.  You will have nothing – neither comfort nor necessity – until I have my apology from you.”

      “I don’t need anything from you,” Peter retorted.  “I never wanted your so-called gifts and I never wanted to be forced to stay here!  I want to go home!”

      Hook’s scowl deepened but he refrained from arguing further with the girl.  He’d punished her sufficiently for her defiance, but if he let her goad him he knew he’d go too far and possibly kill her.  No, I won’t hurt her; I’ll let her stubbornness hurt her for me.  She’ll sit in this room until she surrenders or dies.  Either way, she’ll never defy me again.  A quiet voice made him turn to see Billy Jukes in the doorway, holding a chain with locks dangling from both ends.

      “Tether her to the wall, Mr. Jukes,” Hook ordered, returning his glare to Peter.  “If she resists, I’ll give her an even dozen with the cat.”  Do it, Pan, just try to resist, and when I’m done with you you’ll be sleeping on your stomach for a month.

      Peter’s eyes widened at the threat, knowing without a doubt that Hook would flog her again without hesitation.  By the way he was watching her, his lips curled into a sinister smile as his eyes bore into her, it seemed like he was hoping she’d give him an excuse to hurt her.  Peter held perfectly still while Billy attached the chain to the iron ring in the wall and then knelt before her to fasten the other end to the chains on her feet. 

      “Check her bindings, Jukes.  I don’t want her slipping loose when our backs are turned.”

      Billy gave the shackles a few tugs, verifying they were fastened about her ankles securely.  He did the same to the manacles, jerking the chain to make sure the cuffs wouldn’t slip off her wrists.  When Peter cried out in pain and pulled away, Billy turned his attention to the bloody sleeve of her dress.  There was a hole in the cloth just below her shoulder, on the inside of her arm, and the blood had darkened the light blue cloth around the tear and down the sleeve to black.  “Cap’n,” he called, “she’s wounded.”

      “I know that, imbecile!” Hook snapped.  “She’s damned lucky I didn’t flay the hide off her back!”

      “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir,” Billy insisted, “but it’s her arm.  Looks like you gouged it.”  He reached towards the girl, intending to inspect the injury, but Peter shied away from him, backing further into the corner.  She bumped into the wall again and gasped, tears of pain welling up in her eyes.  “I wasn’t gonna hurt ya,” Billy told her softly, suddenly feeling like a heel.  His previous anger towards her was long gone, having died with the first of her screams when Hook began flogging her.  He sincerely wished that he’d just stayed in bed and let her go.  If he hadn’t raised the alarm, she’d probably be home by now, safe with Miss Wendy and the Lost Boys, - people that loved her and would never hurt her.  I promised Slightly I’d protect her, and look what I’ve let happen.  This is all my fault.  I’m sorry, Slightly.  Billy looked up at Hook, “Want me to get Smee to doctor that for her?”

      “No,” Hook replied, shoving Billy towards the door as he strode towards the girl.  Peter glared up at him, but when the man reached for her arm she shifted away and slid to the floor, defensively turning her injuries away from him.  Hook sneered at her small act of defiance and stepped away, deciding there was one more thing he needed to do.  “She gets nothing, Jukes.  Now leave and close the door behind you.”

      “Aye, aye,” Billy answered, ducking his head and scurrying out the door.  He spared one last glance at the girl before he left, hoping that he would find some way to help her.  He still had his key to her room, so perhaps later he could sneak in to see her and bring something to tend her injuries with.

      “Aren’t you leaving too, Captain?” Peter asked, her tone of voice indicating that she wanted nothing more than for him to leave.  “I’m not going anywhere and you’ve taken everything…”

      “Not everything yet, Pan,” Hook interrupted.  He pointed at her with his claw, “I’ll have that dress now.”

      “I’m not stripping for you,” Peter retorted.  “You’ve seen me naked enough, thank you.”

      “Don’t pretend to modesty, brat,” the man growled, his anger rising even higher at her continued disobedience and cheek.  His claw arm twitched with the need to silence her, but he refrained from hurting her… physically.  “We both know there’s nothing chaste about you.  You were such a promising little slut before you came to Neverland.  You’ve had more hands up your skirts than I have on deck, and Liam was training you quite well before you got him killed.”  Peter’s face blanched at his words, her mouth opening in shock, and Hook grinned in triumph. 

      “Liam taught you quite a few tricks,” he pressed, “and I’m sure you remember them all now.  I wonder what your uncle taught you.  I saw your memory of him, I saw him pawing at you before you bashed his head in with a cane.  How many times did he have you?  Did you kill him for it?  You’re a murderer, Pan.  Your uncle, Liam, that little JoJo whelp you spoke of… is there anyone else to add to your list?  Tinkerbell perhaps?  You’re a liar too, Pan, and when your Godparents finally realized how disgusting you were, they tossed you aside like yesterday’s garbage.  They only want you back because they don’t have anyone to take your place yet.” 

      “No,” Peter whispered, her voice shaking with grief.  He’s just trying to hurt me, she tried to reassure herself, but that did nothing to calm the roaring of voices in her head - memories that had been relatively quiet for most of the day but now were clamoring for her attention.  Liam, Jonas, JoJo, Oberon, Uncle Joe, Aunt Rose, Peter… voices screaming at her, filled with accusations.  People who’d said they’d loved her yet abandoned her, people that had wanted to hurt her, had wanted things from her they’d had no right to ask for. 

      He stepped forward again and grabbed the front of Peter’s dress, snatching her towards him so that he could get a good look at the pure anguish in her eyes.  “No one really wants you, Pan, and why should they?  Liar, murderer, whore… your uncle was right.  You are worthless.  I’m glad I realized that before I wasted another breath on you.”  Quickly he caught one of her wrists and unfastened the manacle so she could comply with his demand. Once her hands were free he let go of her abruptly and wiped his hand on his breeches, as if wiping away something foul.   “Now remove that dress so I can have it properly burned.  You don’t deserve anything so nice.”

      Peter stumbled slightly when the man released her, reeling from his words and the memories they stirred within her.  He was right, and she hated him for being right, hated him for seeing her for what she really was and making her see it too… for making her hate herself.  Tears spilled unheeded from her eyes and her hands shook as she fumbled at the lacing down the front of her bodice.  Despite the unsteadiness of her hands, she quickly had the garment loosened.  When she tried to pull it over her head, her injured arm flared in agony, as did her back, and she began to cry openly as she fought a loosing battle to get free of the dress.

      Hook quickly realized her difficulty and felt a small twinge of sympathy for the girl.  She was injured, and he decided to make an allowance for that.  Without warning, Hook grabbed a fistful of cloth and yanked upwards, pulling the dress over her head and off.  Peter gave another pained yelp and staggered away, clutching her injured arm with her other hand.  Hook balled up the dress and sneered at her, relishing the way her skin flushed in humiliation when she realized she was naked.  He laughed when she turned away to shield herself from his eyes.

     "I've seen your assets before, Pan," Hook chided, yanking her back around so he could quickly chain her wrists back together. "Trust me, I'm not impressed." His prisoner secured once more, he turned and walked towards the door, pausing beside the sconce. I honestly don't know what Liam and the others saw in you. You're certainly nothing to die for, much less waste a half-penny upon…" 

      “Just go, Captain,” Peter said softly, her voice thick with tears.  “If I disgust you so much, then leave and don’t bother coming back.”

      “Oh I won’t,” Hook replied, blowing out the candles in the sconce and plunging the small room into darkness.  “Not until you decide to apologize to me.  Otherwise, you can damned well rot down here.”  With that he strode out the door, slamming it shut behind him and locking it.

      Naked, hurt and alone in the dark, Peter fell to her knees and wept.  Her bodily hurts paled to insignificance beside the utter despair in her soul.  Hook’s words had ripped her heart to shreds, resonating too strongly with what she’d been told for so much of her life for her to deny their truth.  It wasn’t until she’d come to Neverland that she’d been able to find some worth in herself.  When Tink had made her forget her old life, she’d believed her pixy friend’s assurances that she was someone wonderful, that she was worthy of praise and affection.  It was all a lie. 

      Pan… please… she heard the island’s cry, cutting through the chaos of memories, making her Gift throb painfully as it tried to connect with Neverland.

      “Shut up,” she whispered, covering her ears with her hands and squeezing her eyes shut.  It was a fruitless gesture, she couldn’t see anyway and the voices were all in her head, but she was helpless to do anything else.  “Quit calling me!  I can’t come back.  I’ll never come back… you don’t really want me.  Go away.”  But her Gift continued to reach and she could almost feel it slowly draining her life away, feeding on her soul.  It’s not a Gift, it’s a Curse.

      It was a long time before she finally curled up on her uninjured side, shivering as she succumbed to exhaustion and fell into fitful, relentless nightmares.

---

      Smee had long since tended the shallow cut on his Captain’s chest and taken his leave, working in nervous silence while his patient brooded in dark rage.  Now Hook sat in his armchair, finishing off yet another glass of rum while he glared at a painting on an easel.  The portrait of a girl smiled back at him, her eyes glinting with mischievousness.  The Captain was no great artist, but he could effectively reproduce images that had captured his heart, and Peter Pan had long been a favorite model of his.  He had very few surviving pieces of the boy.  His rage had tended to get the better of him and the sketches and paintings usually suffered the fate the model unfailingly avoided.  This piece had been his first attempt to capture his Kitten on canvas, and he’d nearly completed it, inspired by the vision of her the night she’d promised to reward him one day with her true name.  He’d seen so much potential in her that night, falling in love with the idea of the woman she might become one day. 

      Be kind to me, give me a life worth living, earn my trust and my regard, and there’ll never be any secrets between us, she’d said, and in that moment he’d have done anything for her to earn that trust. 

      Be kind to me.  “I was kind, Kitten,” he whispered.  “I’ve never been kinder to another soul in my life.  Why was it not enough?”  I’m dying and you knew it, her voice replied.  What kindness is it to keep me here, when you know that I am in pain and only re-bonding would save me?  Hook had no answer for the voice.

      Give me a life worth living.  “I tried.  I gave you shelter and food; I gave you beautiful dresses and jewelry.”  A life worth living, Captain, his conscience argued, still in Pan’s voice.  What life would ever be worth living as the property of another?  You made it clear to me that I was merely your possession, kept alive for your amusement in your quest for vengeance.

      “I thought I was gaining your trust, Kitten,” Hook mused, pouring himself another glass of rum.  He was verging on drunk and he didn’t care, deciding to follow Pan’s example from the night before and murder this day as quickly as possible.  Surely she had trusted him.  Hook couldn’t see Pan lowering her defenses and getting drunk if she hadn’t felt safe in his company.  Before that, she’d come to him with her troubles, seeking his advice and comfort.  She wouldn’t have done that if she’d not trusted him on some level.  Where did I go wrong?  What happened that you ceased trusting me and sought to flee?  Was it something that I did, or was it all a lie? 

      “You were pretending all this time,” Hook snarled, downing most of his glass.  He rose to his feet, swaying as the room began to list about him.  “I should have known.  You were always a great pretender, brat; I should never have trusted anything you said.  I should have kept you locked below all this time… I should have sunk you to the depths!  You lying harlot!” he shouted as he hurled the glass at the portrait.  The goblet shattered, splattering the painting with red liquid.  Peter’s face continued to smile.

      “I’ll teach you to trifle with me, Kitten,” Hook promised, staggering to his bed.  He flung himself atop the blankets, not even bothering to remove his boots or his claw.  “You’ll be a good girl, or you’ll die… I’ll wring your scrawny little neck myself if I have to.” 

      Hook slipped into unconsciousness, his dreams haunted by images of Peter Pan.  Pan the boy darted about him, laughing cockily as he flitted about, hurling insults at the man.  Kitten stood by his side, smiling up at him demurely as she spoke, making witty jokes for his entertainment.  Miss Pan stood by the railing of his ship, silent as she stared longingly at the island, her heartache stamped plainly upon her face.  Peter sat huddled in the dark, naked and weeping, shouting defiance at him for holding her captive.  One by one Hook saw them, and one by one he murdered them, hearing them scream as he plunged his hook into their small hearts.  After he killed the last one he looked around at their lifeless bodies strewn about the deck, dead eyes staring at him reproachfully.

      He screamed then, roaring from the pain of losing something he could never have, of knowing that he’d always destroy the things he wanted most… knowing that he would always be alone and that he’d never ever be loved.