This piece is not proof read, so there are bound to be some mistakes.
I see this life
Like a swinging vine
Swing my heart across the line
In my face is flashing signs
Seek it out and ye shall find...
Neverland had an unusual way of always appearing as morose and dark as Hook felt whenever he deemed it necessary to pay attention. After seeing bush after bush, tree after tree… one stops paying attention to the foliage, save to make sure nothing smacks a guy in the face that is… Or is thrown at them. Since Neal had returned, Hook never felt safe to let his guard down especially after that moment.
He sighed heavily as he lay against a tree, watching Emma and Neal as they engaged in some private conversation about some private matter in a not so private way. Hook wanted to throw something back at Neal, at least then it would make up for that moment. The pirate brought up his good hand, feeling the cut that had carved itself a home in his face. Were there any good rocks around? No? Disappointed, Hook tore his gaze from the pair and looked to the fire Charming had started. He watched the flames dance in the darkness of the night. There was something off about those flames though, almost like they were laughing at Hook's failure at wooing a woman against a guy with a small beer belly forming and subpar looks. Hook didn't look worse than that…right?
Feeling a bit self conscience suddenly, he tucked his knees under his chin and dared another look at Emma and Neal. What did he have that Hook didn't? 'Kindness, self-sacrificing, empathetic…' Hook suppressed a groan as he smacked his head against the rough bark of the tree. The ache at the back of his head subsided his pathetic thoughts. If it came down to it, she'd choose Henry…that's what she said. But why was she speaking to Neal so close? And was that laughter?
He slammed his head against the tree again, this time his vision momentarily blackened. He needed a walk. He stood up abruptly, but wavered as his head protested from his self-inflicted injury.
"You alright there, Hook?" Charming asked as he looked up from where he sat, occasionally poking the fire with a stick.
"Aye, just need to walk a bit."
Charming gave him a long look before nodding in acceptance.
'Oh get off your high horse…' Hook walked briskly into the woods, swatting at leaves and branches as they came his way, almost like they were trying to tease him about his current losing battle. After a few yards, Hook started to feel guilty about his mental jab at Charming. Despite their differences at the start, Charming was beginning to come around, perhaps he was even beginning to like the bloody pirate. 'I'll just be best friends with her father, what could possibly go wrong there?' He rolled his eyes at the thought. He'd never be able to think innocently if Emma came into a room, and he didn't exactly relish in the idea of Charming coming at him with a baseball bat after catching Hook looking to his daughter's posterior.
They could be friends… just not that close of friends.
Hook found a quiet clearing, full of tall grass that seemed to be touched with a light streak of silver as the moon gazed down adoringly. He lay down in the grass, not caring that it was a tad itchy, or about any bug that may come about his way.
"You're not as fun as you used to be," an all too familiar voice stated begrudgingly.
Hook didn't bother to sit up. He knew Pan was somewhere in the grasses with him. He only continued to stare up at the moon.
"Maybe if I don't feed it, it'll go away…" Hook said dismissively. He felt Pan's body lie beside him, a bit too close for comfort at the moment. Memories of a time he'd rather not think about were threatening to break the dam he'd kept going strong for so long.
"You find yourself clever, Hook?" Pan retorted. "You were never one with words, though you do have a gifted tongue…"
Hook closed his eyes, trying not to hear the suggestive tone in Pan's voice. He clawed at his resolve, begging it to stay strong; keep the dam up, just a little bit longer…
"What's your end-game, Pan?" he asked with closed eyes. He couldn't look at that face… Not here… He was surprised he hadn't recognized this specific landmark before. Out of all the landmarks in Neverland, and this was the one he'd forgotten?
"What's the point of a game if you already know how I plan to win?"
Hook felt soft fingers walk up the side of his rib cage, dancing with triumph. They continued further up to Hook's neck before the pirate opened his eyes and grabbed those soft fingers within his own. The violent force of the action granted Hook with a vulnerable yelp from Pan's mouth… and that's when the memories came flooding.
The moon painted the world in cold shadows ranging from light gray to deep black hues. Despite how lifeless the world looked, there was an elegant touch to it. The grays seemed to look almost…silver to Hook as he lay in the grass. It wasn't too long, just long enough to brush at his ears teasingly. The rock just a few yards away seemed to practically glow, but that may have had something to do with whom was currently sitting atop that smooth rock.
Pan had his eyes closed as he played his pipe. The notes were soft and mournful, almost as if they were trying to reach out to someone who'd long been gone, yet there was a small bit of hope, like the person wasn't dead… just simply missing. The boy stopped abruptly, smiling shyly like Hook caught him in one of his most intimate of moments. "Sorry. Sometimes I forget others are around when I play."
"I like when you play." Hook brought his hands to cradle his head from the soft Earth, making it easier for him to look at Peter.
Despite the compliment, Pan didn't seem to be affected by it. He simply shrugged, slipping down from the rock and jogging over to Hook where he dove onto the man's body, lying his head in the crook of Hook's neck.
A pang of guilt made its way into Hook's heart. He had been on the island long enough to feel true anguish, anger, and hatred, yet he couldn't break away from the one thing he wanted to break away from the most. Pan had a hold of his heart, but it wasn't the kind that gave a man warm and fuzzy feelings. It was a carnal desperation, a simple fix to help dissipate the pain. It was because he was weak, and there was no way around that.
"What are you thinking?" Pan asked as he propped himself up on one elbow, tracing Hook's jaw with his fingers.
"You don't need to know," Hook responded.
A darkness crept into Peter's eyes, a sure sign that he didn't like what he'd been told. He rolled his lips, like he was trying to find something to say, but Hook knew the boy was already three steps ahead. And sure enough, he was already three steps ahead. He moved quickly, like water trickling down a mountain, coming to hold Hook's waist with his own, slender legs. He chewed his bottom lip innocently, though Hook was smart enough to know it wasn't a sincere gesture. "I want to know though…" Peter said as he walked his fingers up the pirate's chest, coming to cradle his face. Hook closed his eyes, as if that would make this any easier for him to endure. Endure… He wasn't that foolish. He wanted this. His skin cried out for Pan's touch, or his soft, shy kisses. He longed to feel those lithe arms around his torso at night as the fire died… Though, the harsh reality of it was, Pan was hardly there with him at night, and his kisses were never shy, just strategic. It killed Hook how addicted he was to the teen, but knew he was a simple game to the other.
"You didn't have to kill them…" Hook blurted.
Pan rolled his head, smirking as his small triumph was easily earned. "If they don't play their part, I have no use for them. I'd be remiss if I just kept hoarding orphans. Who do you think feeds them all?"
"Food can appear right out of thin air," Hook hissed as Peter decided this conversation wasn't where he wanted to go. The teen rolled his hips into Hook's, taunting him with rather overt suggestions.
"Then why don't we make some chocolate drizzle and play a game of our own then?" Peter suggested as he moved to untie the drawstrings at the top of Hook's tunic.
The pirate rolled, forcing Pan to disappear and then reappear a few yards away, standing with eyes narrow and his jaw clenched.
"They're children, Pan!" Hook screamed. "You killed them because they were crying!"
Despite the sudden outburst, Peter wasn't affected in the least. He leaned into one of his legs and placed a hand to his hip. "And?"
Hook was so exasperated at even trying that he just shook his head and began to walk away from the meadow.
"Killian!" Peter called out, suddenly appearing in front of the pirate, his face adored with sorrow and regret. "Don't leave me. Not like this."
Hook knew it was all an act. Peter was no more inclined to even suggest at an apology than he was to actually feel guilt. But Hook couldn't withstand it. He wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling their bodies flush against one another and took the boy in with a deep, wet kiss. His lips claimed the other as he moved his fingers to intertwine with the boy's hair. A soft yelp escaped those small lips as Peter seemed momentarily surprised at the passion that Hook had exuded.
"You're not angry?" Peter asked, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen.
"How can I be angry with you?" Hook asked before claiming those lips in his once more, knowing all too well Pan was only allowing him to do so just so he could continue with his sick game.
Hook didn't know how long he'd kept Pan's hand in his own, but he immediately dropped it as he was pulled from his memories, taking a few steps away from the teen as if he were radioactive.
Pan didn't let the opportunity go astray though. He stood there, his brow momentarily furrowed in a light concern. Hook wanted to punch him. Every gaze, every touch… It had all been a lie, and no matter how many times Hook had tried to escape, he just never could… until his misery became too much, and he'd left to seek out the only thing he could destroy; The Dark One. After all, Pan couldn't die, at least, not to Hook's knowledge.
"We don't have to play this game, Killian," Peter said softly.
Hook simply shook his head, trying to turn away from Pan but the boy was there in front of him again.
"Just come home to me."
"This isn't my home. It never was, and it never will be," Hook hissed as he pushed by Peter Pan, forcefully shoving the other aside.
Hook could feel those eyes locked in such a strong gaze at his back. He ground his teeth together, smashing them as hard as he could, trying to withstand the urge to turn around. 'You're disgusting…' Hook thought.
"It was your home, Hook!" Peter yelled out to him. "When are you going to realize that I'm the only one who will ever love you?"
Hook kept walking. He wished he hadn't heard those words. It was a cruel, vicious, unspeakable game that Pan was playing. With each step, Hook's resolve waxed and waned. He wanted to turn around, but he didn't. He wanted to just give up and give in, but he couldn't! Pan didn't love him. It was all a lie… Hook knew it was. It had to be. Peter Pan was incapable of love. Or so all the stories said…
