Chapter 2 – Terror and Celebration

 

      Peter glared at Hook and tried not to wince while Smee washed the cut on her throat.  They were in a small cabin below decks, which Peter thought was odd since she’d been expecting to be locked in the brig.  Instead of being chained in that all-too-familiar cell, Hook had led her down here.  Jukes was currently bringing in hay and blankets for bedding, while Hook was rummaging through a chest that Mason had brought to him.  Occasionally, Hook would look up from the chest (the contents of which Peter couldn’t see) and stare at her, a strange smile on his face.  It was definitely creepy, and Peter had to fight the fear rising within her.  Fear will get me nowhere.  Fear is a prison, and I will not be caged.  At least Billy wasn’t looking at her anymore, but Smee kept calling her ‘lass’, which was just as upsetting.  All in all, Peter was quite tired of this little adventure and ready to go home.  She just needed free of her chains.

      Hook finally found a dress that would fit, and he smiled at it in approval.  He didn’t know how Peter had become a girl, but the fact was that she was female right now.  No girl was going to go around his ship wearing patched and torn short pants; it was indecent.  Plus, Pan seemed to be in hot denial about her gender, and it was entertaining to keep her provoked by reminding her of it.  Hook was very amused by the whole situation, and he really wanted to get his hands on the magic that had affected this change.

      If I wish to learn anything about it, I suppose I should question him – her – before I give her the dress.  Hook faced Pan again and waited while Smee finished putting the bandage on her throat.  When the bosun was done and had left, Hook asked his question.  “How long have you been female, Pan?”

      “I’m not!” Peter snapped, glaring at Hook.  “I wish you would stop saying that.  It’s not funny anymore.”

      Oh, but it is, Hook thought, but kept his face serious.  “You are a girl, Peter, I promise you that I’m not joking.  Is this some new game of yours?  Perhaps someone is playing a magical prank on you by changing you.”

      “Nothing’s changed,” Peter answered.  “I’m exactly the same as I’ve always been.  I’m still me.”

      Hook could understand that it was possible for Pan to be so ignorant that she didn’t know the physical differences between males and females.  But surely the boy – girl – whatever – would have noticed that her body had changed… ‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said.  Gall and brimstone, has she always been female?  Hook felt his chest tighten and he looked at Pan in rising horror.  A girl, a little slip of a girl, cut off my hand?  I’ve been tormented all this time by a little girl?  It was preposterous, it was an insult, and it was an affront to his sensibilities.  “You’ve always been a girl, then,” Hook said coldly.  “Well, I shall just have to question your friends about that when I capture them.  Until then, you will act and dress appropriately.”  Hook unfastened Pan’s chains and glared at her.  “Take off your clothes.”

      Billy, who was putting the last touches on the bedding, froze.

      Peter narrowed her eyes warily.  “Why?”

      Hook reached into the trunk and pulled out the yellow dress he’d picked out.  “You will wear this as long as you are on my ship.”

      Peter burst out into hysterical laughter.  “Oh, Codfish!” she gasped as the laughter wracked her.  “You’ve lost it!  There’s no way you’re getting me in that!”

      Hook smiled thinly, anticipating the imminent fight.  It didn’t matter if Pan was a girl or boy, whether she’d been this way all along, or for today only – this was the impudent brat that had cut off his hand and fed it to the croc.  This was the one against whom he’d sworn dire vengeance.  Right now, Hook was too intrigued by the situation to care about killing Pan.  But this was his ship, and Pan was his prisoner, and he would not stand for the brat’s customary defiance.  “Billy,” he growled dangerously, “Go.  Now.  Take the trunk and lock the door behind you.”

      Oh, God, Billy thought, looking at Hook in alarm.  What’s he going to do to her?  But he saw the look on his Captain’s face and knew that it was time to go.  As drawn to Pan as he was, she was still the enemy, and Billy didn’t see the point in them both being beaten for defiance.  “Aye, Cap’n,” he said briskly and scurried from the room, dragging the trunk behind him.  Whatever happened now, he wanted no part of it, so he quickly made his way to the galley for breakfast with the other men. 

      Peter had sobered up rather quickly when she heard Hook order Jukes out.  She also recognized the look in Hook’s eyes and steeled herself for a fight.  She was weaponless, locked in the room with the huge man, but she smiled anyway.  Things always worked out somehow, opportunities always presented themselves at some point – she just had to keep calm and take any openings she could.  If I can get his sword… maybe the key… no other weapons, nothing in here but hay and… the chains!

      Peter picked up the shackles she’d worn and held them at the ready, prepared to use them to block any blows or to swing them as a weapon.  “I’m not wearing that, and I’d like to see you try to make me.”

      “Put that down,” Hook snarled, “or I’ll have to hurt you.”

      “Really?  If I’m a girl like you claim, then isn’t it against your rules to fight me?” Peter asked, deciding he could play this game too. 

      “Don’t make the same naïve assumptions that Wendy makes,” Hook countered, “by trying to use my sensibilities as a gentleman against me.  When it comes to my ship, my authority aboard this ship, and any dealings with you, I am a pirate to the core.”  He hefted his sword as Peter began floating, wondering if he could subdue the brat with a minimum of bloodshed.  He really didn’t want to fight a girl; it did bother his sensibilities enough that he doubted he could actually do it.  But Peter couldn’t be sure of that and Hook was inclined to keep up his bluff.  “Now be a good girl, drop the chain and put on your dress.”

      Peter caught a glimpse of the key, hanging on a cord around Hook’s neck.  My only way out is with that.  I have to get it from him.  Deciding to get this over with sooner than later, Peter took the offensive and attacked.  Hook held all the advantages and they both knew it.  Peter’s only real hope was to get lucky and render Hook unconscious, or at least to stun him, with a blow to the head with the manacles.  There wasn’t enough room to make use of her flying, limiting her to only managing to dart over or under the vicious sword and claw swipes aimed at her.  Any time she got close enough to bring the swinging chain in range, her blow was met with the blade or the hook.  But she was young, energetic, agile and cunning, and she knew that as long as she persisted, Hook would eventually tire and give her the opportunity she needed.

      Hook was too busy struggling with his warring ideals to end the fight quickly.  He should have snagged the chain and run the flitting nuisance through with his sword, but he couldn’t.  Yes, his morals as a gentleman urged him to not harm her, reminding him that a man should never strike a lady.  Generally, if he found he needed to kill a woman (and he had killed some in his life), he never used his hands or a blade.  Hanging, drowning, poison… those were acceptable and not as violent as a beating or a sword.  He’d never skewer Wendy Darling, and he found that he was against doing it to a female Pan.  This reluctance was reinforced by his fascination with the new situation.  Peter Pan had always fascinated him, and at times his curiosity about the eternal youth had stayed his hand in the past.  He really wanted to see her in that dress, wanted to see how she looked in it.  He wondered if she would be beautiful if she ever grew up.  And he had a growing desire to tame her, to mould her into the role that was her birthright. 

      These thoughts tempered his strikes, making him parry and defend and pull back on his attacks.  But the pirate in him clamored for the blood of Pan, and the longer this dragged on, the angrier he became.  This was the brat that took his hand… this was the cocky youth whose very existence was an affront to everything he held sacred – especially now that he knew she was a girl.  This – Hook’s thoughts disappeared in a blinding flash of pain as Peter finally scored a hit and the heavy iron manacle slammed into the captain’s temple.

      Hook heard a clang as his sword dropped from his suddenly weak fingers, but he didn’t care.  The world spun and he felt warmth on the side of his face, the side that was in agony.  He fell to his knees and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself and push past the sudden lethargy that consumed him.  Distantly, he heard a familiar crow and he focused on it.  He knew that sound like he knew his own heartbeat, and it filled him with rage.  The rage cut through the darkness of his mind, bringing the world back into crystal clarity.  He ignored the pain, wanting to cause pain of his own, and that desire, that need, consumed him.  He opened his eyes and saw Pan’s grinning face inches from his own, and all else faded to red.

      Peter felt a flush of relief when she felt the heavy manacle connect with the side of Hook’s head.  The battle in the close quarters had taxed her more than she’d thought it would, and it had been extremely frustrating because she couldn’t maneuver as she was used to.  When Hook’s eyes became vacant and he fell to his knees, Peter felt a burst of pride swell in her heart.  “I told you, Hook!  I’m the only one that can beat you!”  She laughed happily, pleased at her victory.  Unable to contain herself, she threw back her head and crowed as loud as she could.

      But time was short, and she could celebrate fully later when she was safely away.  Hook wasn’t going all the way down, unfortunately, and she knew that she had to get the key now and flee, before he regained his senses.  She landed before him, ignoring the blood running from the gash on his had that indicated where the metal had cut him.  Her hand closed around the key and she smiled in triumph.  But before she could yank it free of the cord, Hook’s strong, gloved hand closed upon her wrist, gripping her painfully. 

      “You’ll pay for that, boy,” Hook snarled and Peter looked up in alarm.  The crazed look in the man’s eyes sent terror through her mind.

      “No!” Peter shouted and pulled back, trying to get away.  The iron grip refused to lessen, instead it yanked her off her feet as Hook stood and lifted her up to dangle before him.  “Let go!” Peter screamed and she swung the chain in her other hand, trying to hit the man again.

      Hook parried the awkward swing easily with his claw.  A quick twist and a yank, and he ripped the chain from Peter’s grasp and sent it flying across the small room.  “I’ve had enough of your defiance, boy!  I gave you an order to strip, and if you won’t obey then I will strip you myself!” he snarled, spittle flying from his lips.

      Peter screamed in panic and covered her face with her free arm as the wicked claw swiped.  It caught her cape at the neck and snagged it, then reversed and pulled it up, over her head and removing it.  Hook sneered and tossed the cape aside.  “One down…” he purred.

      “NO!” Peter shouted again as the claw came at her.  It caught cloth at her throat once more, inserting itself between the neck of her shirt and her skin.  Peter stared at Hook fearfully as the claw paused there a moment, then she began kicking wildly, trying to make the man let go.

      Hook roared in anger at the brat’s continued defiance.  He yanked at her shirt, ripping the cloth with his hook.  “You,” he struck again, ripping more cloth, “Will,” rip, “NOT,” rip, “Defy me,” and long, tearing as the cloth gave way completely, “BOY!”  He continued to claw at the offensive brown cloth until only the sleeves and a few tatters remained of the front.

      Peter had quit thrashing, afraid that if she moved, Hook would cut her with his wild slashes.  The man paused when most of her shirt was destroyed, so Peter once again lashed out, kicking at the arm that had ruined her shirt.  The next thing she knew, her back and head were connecting with the wall, Hook having slung her into it in his fury.  The impact stunned her and before she could recover, he was attacking again, throwing her to the floor.

      “I’ll teach you, boy!” Hook bellowed, pinning the youth on the rough wooden floor.  Hand and hook worked in tandem, ripping and pulling at brown cloth, removing the last of Peter’s shirt and making even quicker work of her shorts.

      “Stop!” Peter screamed in terror.  Being pinned down, rough hands fumbling against her body, clothes being torn away to expose her, helplessness, words and obscenities flung at her as the man hurt and humiliated her… these things were strangely familiar and terrifying.  This isn’t happening, its not real! she thought frantically as darkness covered her mind.  Don’t fight, let him finish and he’ll go away when he’s done.  Don’t make him hurt you… Peter stilled, her body rigid with fear.  No, stop, she begged silently as the terror consumed her.

      Hook laughed in triumph as he jerked the last of Peter’s shorts off his legs.  He grinned cruelly as he yanked off the boots and looked down at the naked boy… “My God,” he whispered as he beheld the naked girl lying still on the floor beneath him.  “My God, what was I doing?” he whispered again as the last of his rage left him.  He suddenly felt sick.

      Peter lay rigid on her back, her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.  Tears coursed down the sides of her face and she gasped as silent sobs wracked her, her body shaking with fear.  The bandage on her neck was gone and the cut was bleeding again, the scab knocked off in the struggle.  There were other cuts now, scattered sporadically over her body where Hook, in his careless fury, had nicked her as he had ripped her clothes away.  Hook could see dark red finger marks around her right arm where he’d held her up, and other red splotches could be seen on her arms and legs where he’d handled her too roughly. 

      “Peter?” Hook called, crawling to sit beside her head.  The girl didn’t answer, but her gasps became more frenzied.  She’s hyperventilating!  Hook realized he must have been completely out of control to allow himself to do this and terrify Peter so badly.  “Calm down, Pan,” he said soothingly, gently laying his hand on her shoulder.  Peter flinched, but otherwise there was no change in her condition.  Hook’s dread increased and he grabbed the blanket off the pile of hay.  “Come on,” he murmured, draping the blanket over her body.  He lifted the small girl up and wrapped the blanket around her better, then sat back and settled her into his lap.  “I’m sorry, Pan.  Calm down.  Its over, I’m not going to hurt you.”

      He covered her mouth gently with his hand, forcing her to breathe through her nose and thus slow her breathing down.  Peter jerked and tried to pull away, but he held her firmly until she stilled again.  “Deep breaths, my dear,” he murmured over and over until, at last, her body relaxed and her breathing slowed, deepening into a more normal rhythm.  He removed his hand from her mouth and wiped her face carefully, drying her tears.  She didn’t flinch, and by the way her face had relaxed, Hook realized that Peter was unconscious.  He shook his head and dabbed at her neck, tending to the wound there.

      “I should be hanged,” Hook muttered in disgust.  He shouldn’t have lost control, losing one’s composure was a weakness of character, especially when it caused a man to harm a woman.  What did I think I was going to do when I got her naked?  Wrestle her into the dress?  Idiot!  He’d let himself forget for a short while, falling back into his old anger and seeing Peter Pan as a boy again.  He’d sought to injure and humiliate him.  Somehow, he’d managed to do worse. 

      Carefully, he laid the girl on the hay, pushing the stuff around to support her body better.  Next, he fastened the leg iron to one of her ankles, the other end of which was attached to a ring on the wall via a long chain.  I should have restrained you first, so you couldn’t fight me and enrage me like that.  I can’t allow myself to fall back on old habits.  Things have changed between us girl.  Perhaps I will kill you yet, but I think our old ways of fighting are done. 

      Hook retrieved the dress and laid it near Pan, so she could dress when she awoke.  He wasn’t touching her again, not like that, so he wasn’t going to put it on her now.  “I suppose,” he noted as he gathered the shredded remains of Peter’s old clothes, “that I’ll have a harder time seeing you as the old Peter Pan once you’re dressed appropriately.  I’ll be less likely to harm you then.  These rags are beyond salvation, so you’ll not be wearing them ever again.”  Sighing in exasperation, he took up the lantern and left the girl to rest.

      When he reached the galley, the men were finishing up breakfast.  He deposited the clothes on the floor and glared at his crew.  “Dispose of these.  None of you are to enter Pan’s room without my say-so.  If I find any of you have been in there, I’ll hang you.”  With another warning glare, he stormed to his cabin to calm down and try to eat his own breakfast.

      The pirates stared at each other for a moment, speechless.  They’d heard the commotion, heard Pan’s crow, Hook’s shouts and the girl’s screams.  Then they’d heard the eerie quiet, which had gone on for a long time before Hook finally came out.  It hadn’t boded well, and the men had been debating whether they should make sure the two enemies hadn’t finally killed each other. 

      “Smee,” Starkey said at last, “the Captain was bleeding.  Perhaps you should go check on the old fellow.”

      Smee’s eyes widened in worry.  He’d not seen that when Hook had come through.  “Right ya are, Mr. Starkey.  I’ll go tend to th’ Cap’n.”  He scurried out of the galley with a pace that belied his age.

      Billy went to the pile of tattered clothes and began picking them up.  He held up several large pieces, trying to figure out what they had been.  He could make out what seemed to have been a sleeve, and found the cape and belt intact.  Everything else was beyond recognition.  “I guess the Cap’n won,” Billy said as he showed the rags to the men.  “He musta ripped her clothes right off her.”

      Mason, Mullins and Starkey exchanged looks, each man wondering exactly what Hook had done to the girl.  And the look each man gave the other said ‘It’s not our business.’  Billy caught the muted looks and was confused at first.  Then he frowned and stood up, a sudden worry filling him.  “You don’t think he hurt her, do you?  We should make sure she’s okay.”  He turned to go to the room, but Mullins caught his arm and pulled him back.

      “Leave ‘er, Billy,” the man said gruffly.  “Girl or boy, that’s still the same old Pan in there.  It’s just the way yer lookin’ at her that’s different.  Best not ta get in Hook’s business, or he’ll string ya up fer sure.”

      But I’m not seeing her different… I just feel safer seeing it now.  Billy shook his head and looked at Mullins helplessly.  “But if she’s hurt…”

      “Why the concern, Jukes?” Starkey asked, curious.  He had caught the look in Billy’s eyes, and he thought he saw infatuation there.

      Mason laughed suddenly, deciding to tease the gunner a bit.  “Awww, has little Billy got a crush?”

      Billy flushed but didn’t look away.  “Well…”

      Mason and Starkey both began laughing, and Mason sang out, “Billy’s in looove!”

      “I am not!” Billy shouted, embarrassed.  He paused a moment, thinking of a way to respond.  “But she is the first girl I’ve ever seen naked, so that means something special, right?”

      Mason and Starkey sobered abruptly and stared at him a moment.  “Cripes, I keep fergettin’ how young ya really are, Billy-boy,” Mason said at last.

      Mullins nodded and put his arm around the gunner’s shoulders, a proud gleam in his eye.  “Aye, it means somethin’, lad.  It means yer another step closer to bein’ a real man.”  He walked Billy back to the table and made the boy sit.  “Shipmates, go fetch some rum!  We can’t have a proper celebration; Hook’d skewer us if we took duty drunk, but today deserves a toast!”

      Starkey ran to the stores and returned promptly with a bottle.  Soon each pirate was holding up a glass of the red liquid and staring at a blushing Billy Jukes.

      “To William Jukes,” Mullins said, smiling proudly.  “Genius, marksman, and loyal shipmate, and black-hearted pirate.  Yer growing up into a fine man, and I’m proud ta have helped ya come this far.”  The other men shouted their agreement and took a drink.

      “To Billy,” Mason called next.  “If we ever get outta this place and find a decent port, I’m takin’ ya to the finest cat-house and buyin’ ya a proper woman.  One with curves and breasts a man can lie his head on an’ sleep content.  We’ll make a proper man outta ya!”

      Starkey held up his glass again after they’d all taken another swig.  “To the Lady Pan… we musn’t forget about her.  I salute her for showin’ our Billy the way to manhood.  May she blossom into a lovely maiden, and perhaps,” he gave Billy a sly wink, “perhaps one day our gunner can show her the way to womanhood!”

      The other men looked at Starkey doubtfully for a moment, a bit disturbed by the mental picture of Billy Jukes and Peter Pan together that way.  Despite what they’d seen today, they still had a hard time imagining Pan as anything but a boy.  Billy, however, blushed even more at the thought and smiled.  “Works for me,” he said and finished off his glass.  A moment later the rest of the men joined him.  The commemoration complete, the pirates went back to the deck to do their duties and see what the Captain had planned next.