Rating: Mature

Pairing: Jack Frost/Peter Pan

Genre: Mafia AU

Warnings: Rape, torture, murder, sad - very sad - ending

ITALICS ARE A FLASHBACK OR DREAMS

PROLOGUE

Hot.

Dear GOD it's hot.

It's surrounding me, suffocating me in its never-ending, relentless embrace. I hate the heat. I've always preferred cold especially the icy, dead of winter, freezing-to-death-in-a-frozen-lake, type of cold. The way the frost forms in fantastic formations around your fingers if you hold them up to a window long enough and the silent sound the snow makes as it hits the ground. However, where I am – or at least think I am – would never assist me in enjoying this simple delight.

Stretching and groaning, I rolled over until I smelled the familiar scent of sex as I buried my face back into not-so-fluffy crappy-motel-sheets. I did it again didn't I?

Yep, that's me, always waking up in some stranger's bed or a stranger in my bed and fuzzy memories of the night before. I'll admit that it hasn't always been like this; I used to at least KNOW the person I woke up with. Well, at least their stripper name or what gang they were from or… ah well, does it really matter? My line of work isn't exactly pristine.

You see I'm the leader of a mafia.

CHAPTER 1

After dressing and slipping out of that dingy motel room, I got in my car and moments later was speeding down the highway. My phone buzzed in my pocket, nearly giving me a heart attack for I forgot it was there. I pulled it out and glanced at the contact name - Nick St. North. Sighing, I hit the green accept button and immediately spat out "What North?" because I really didn't have the time or patience for a hello at the moment.

North chuckled before greeting me, "Well glad to hear you so happy this morning. Rough night?"

"Have I ever had a good night?" I really didn't have time for this conversation. "What do you want? I don't want my time wasted by some 'friendly' conversation, so either get to the point or hang up."

Another chuckle but he did finally get to the point.

"We need you. There's another one."

I let the slightly annoyed silence sit for a while before huffing out, "Meet me at my place in about 15 hours," and hanging up.

'Another one' was basically code for another gang trying to become part of my mob. I drove for a couple more hours before I realized that I'd forgotten my black tie on the bedside table in that crappy motel in hot, hot, hot Vegas. Damn, that was my favorite tie. Oh well.

It was another hour until I stopped to pee and get food - a bag of barbecue chips and Coke - then I was off again. It would still be at least eight more hours and two more restroom stops until I got back to my place in Colorado, then I would have to wait for North and the new family's head to show up to see what I thought about them.

After way too long of a drive I finally reached my destination. It'd been almost a year since I'd last been to this house and it still looked exactly how I remembered - give or take a few overgrown bushes and ivy vines.

My old 1930's cabin-thing in the forest still had the same white paint from when it was originally built except now it was more yellowish and the same chipping concrete patio that I would spend hours on doing who knows what. I got out of the car and went to unlock the house only to find that the door wasn't even on it's hinges.

Someone had broken in… again. That was the 3rd time in this house and people wonder why I never go here. Well other than the fact that I'd been born here.

I walked into the main room and threw down my bag and keys onto the dusty old green couch before I searched through the rest of the tiny 800 square foot house.

To my surprise nothing was missing except every single one of my movies which, of course, was odd but I'm not too worried about a couple of VHS's that I'd been wanting to update to DVD's anyways.

Then it happened.

The guilt, shame, horrible repressed memories, and - worst of all - pent up anger about having to pretend to be someone I'm not took ahold of me and there I was crying on the floor. Damn this place.

A little boy ran laughing through the flowers in the back yard. He wasn't allowed in the front until he could properly handle a gun. His beautiful mother stood on the porch, her brunette hair in a braid cascading over her shoulder. She loved watching her baby boy play as much as possible because she knew what her son didn't. Then multiple gun shots rang through the air. Even though this was a common occurrence, the boy's mother knew something was wrong and she ran to pick him up and carry him away from the fray. But she would never make it to her son and her son would never know what her last words to him were. He would never know that as she lay in the flowers bleeding out that she whispered to her little boy, "I love you, Jack."

After a good sob I pulled myself together and staggered over to the liquor cabinet. Weeping is not something someone of my importance should be doing so I grabbed the strongest whiskey I could find and took a long pull. When the bottle was shut and put back into its proper place, (everything had to be in its proper place when I was around) I had a very nice, very familiar burn itching in my throat. Glancing at the clock I saw there was not much time left until North got here with the family so I figured that I better take a shower so the others don't have to smell the skank I had gotten with.

Just moments after I'd pulled on my favorite plaid shirt and an old pair of what used to be skinny jeans, I heard a crisp knock at the door. I opened it to reveal a man much taller than myself wearing a frankly alarming amount of red, long black hair draped over his shoulders, and he leaned on a heavy looking cane. What stuck out most, however, on this flamboyant figure was his hook where his left hand should've been. He introduced himself immediately, "Hello, I'm James Hook and you must be Mr. Frost?"

I held out a hand to shake his as I nodded hesitantly. Geez, no one made me feel this intimidated since my dad was still alive and I commanded one of the most powerful groups on the planet.

"Yeah, I'm Frost. Jack Frost that is," I told him with all the intensity I could muster then asked, "Is North with you?"

"'M right here Frost!" Came a powerful Russian accent from behind Hook. I internally sighed with relief. North was one of the toughest people I knew and strictly speaking, I wasn't supposed to be left alone without a bodyguard of somesort. Of course I thought that was a stupid rule because I could handle myself perfectly thank you very much but this 'Hook' fellow gave the impression he could stare down a shark until said shark rolled belly up and on top of that he probably had at least five other men with him. I was just thankful I had some back up this time.

As I gestured for Hook to come in and have a seat I found I was sorely mistaken about him having more men with him. The only other person brought with him was a small red-headed boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen? He timidly followed Hook yet still walked with a bounce of defiance. I wondered if this kid is Hook's son but I decided to save that for later, now was the time to figure out if James Hook is worth wasting my time or not.

Hook and his red-headed companion sat on my love seat adjacent to an old recliner which I sat on and North took over half the couch.

I talked to Hook for at least an hour before we got to the topic of his men and I finally snuck a question in about the boy.

"Oh Peter?" Hook replied, mildly surprised in my interest in his companion, "He's my personal servant."

"Ah," I said simply.

I continued to talk to him about why his gang - he called them his crew, like they were pirates or something - should be included in my organized crime circle but after learning about the boy, Peter, I'd lost interest. Of course 'personal servant' could mean anything but the way Hook said it made me worry about the innocence of such a young teen. I wasn't sure if I could trust the hidden meanings of Hook's words with his long, wiry mustache.

When it began to get dark, I wrapped up our conversation and gave Hook his instructions on what him and his crew needed to do before I would let them be under my command. If it had been done correctly within the next 48 hours then Hook would meet me back here with his men. If not… well I couldn't risk having my current whereabouts be known to people I couldn't trust, now could I?

On Hook's way out the door, Peter bumped into him causing Hook to turn sharply on his heel and raise his cane as if to hit the cowering boy before remembering there was an audience. Hook gave a completely un-dignified grunt before grabbing Peter's wrist and throwing him out the door. I turned to North to glimpse at his reaction - which was almost as horrified as my own - but he didn't stay where he was forever and went out the door after them. However, North didn't make it outside before I heard a dull thud followed by a small whimper and Hook's voice making an obscene threat confirming my suspicions about what kind of 'personal' servant Peter was.

I shut the door and sat down on the couch in a daze. That was cruel to the extreme and thats coming from someone who runs the business of cruel to the extreme. Sure I've killed people and tortured some for information - I've even been the person getting beaten for info - but even I have some boundaries and James Hook just went running past several of them.

First of all, I would never cause physical pain to someone for accidentally running into me or make threats about how they were going to be punished so severely they wouldn't be able to walk properly for several days. Secondly, I think owning a person for sexual purposes is absolutely revolting. Don't get me wrong, I buy and sell many illegal things myself but I would never buy OR sell a human being for my own pleasure.

However, there was still a spark of the real Peter burning somewhere deep in his eyes. After seeing how Peter is treated by his owner I knew that I had to get him out of that situation. Whatever it took.

AN: Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And happy anything else I missed!

Okay, first of all I am super duper excited to finally start putting this up and see what you lovelies think of it. Secondly, I've been working really hard on this but I've been slipping back into my usual depressed state and haven't been getting much done of anything so because I don't want to fail school or anything like that, this may not be updated as regularly as it should be. I'm aiming for one chapter every month but we'll have to see how that goes.

In other news, I sorta kinda have a sorta kinda boyfriend. You personally might not care but gosh damn. This is a big deal for me. There are actually people out there that give a shit that I exist. You all care obviously but most of the time I feel like people are just pretending to care for their own personal gain. I know thats not true for a good majority of the time and I know I'm not the only person who feels like this. So I guess what I'm trying to say in all this meaningless rambling is to all the people with anxiety, depression, ocd, etc. You're not alone and if you ever need someone to talk to my inbox is always open.

Anyways, don't forget to R&R and have a wonderful life you wonderful person!