Thanks for reading :) this is a long one! So let me know what you think!
And I'm pretty sure where the story is going now.
Thank you thank you thank you.
(Not beta'd btw)
Wendy sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were locked on some unreachable point somewhere on the raw ceiling as she tried to steal focus from her sore center. It hurt, she realized, it really hurt. It was like the cramps she got during her time of the month, which she'd only had for a year now, but more potent and sharp. Finally after what felt like hours of staring into the brown nothingness she forced herself up and reached for the pills on the side of the table. Peter had left a glass of water for her, she took a sip and winced, it tasted stale on her tongue but she braved the bitterness as she knocked back a pill. She didn't know how long he'd been gone, time seemed everlasting in that little room with no windows or outside light. It could have been over a day now that she thought about it. The pill left a sour taste in the back of her mouth and she got up from the bed to brush her teeth in the makeshift bathroom of her first night.
Peter hadn't come back yet. Maybe she'd displeased him in some way, in a moment of confused joy the thought crossed her mind of her being thrown to the waves after outliving her use. The night before it might have seemed sweet, a kind release, but now and after that… she didn't know. She didn't want to die, and being there for him, being his, didn't seem so bad. It actually seemed nice, to be wanted and held and… loved? Did Pan love her? Wendy didn't dare dwell on the question but a part of her ached to know, she now thought she knew what it was like to be loved. She now knew what it meant to be with another fully. But was it out of love that Pan did this? That was something she couldn't answer and never wanted to.
She didn't know if that could make it all bearable. To have his love and if she was able to give it back. Would that make it any better?
Her legs shook as she made her way to the bathroom, it had only been three days since he'd taken her. Surely the police were looking, her parents were looking and even her brothers. But they would have no need to look down here. Not in this wasteland of the downtrodden and the criminal.
As her bare feet hit the floor of the an idea came to her, what if she got someone to send a message to the police?
Hook would do it. She could get the strange Captain to do it, he hated Peter enough and she was sure he would do anything to rid himself of the little boy.
But should she? Should she rid herself of the evil, wanting boy who had wrung her of her pleasure in such an indescribable way? Wendy bit her lip and stared at herself in the mirror. The bruises that littered her neck and shoulders were a light purple, almost lavender on her soft skin. She hadn't bothered to dress again, her clothes had disappeared and she hadn't seen anything else in the room. So her underdeveloped chest rose with each breath, she exhaled with a tremble, whether from the cold or from fear she couldn't tell.
The water ran lukewarm under her fingers as she splashed it on her face, it mixed with her tears and washed away some of the grime from the night before. She still smelt of sex and Pan. How could something that felt so wonderful be so wrong? She asked herself, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.
Rape is what she thought of, but was if really rape?
"Yes." She said out loud to the dreary glass. Her reflection didn't change, actually the entire room stayed incredibly still as if she'd broken something in time. For too many minutes she stared at herself. Rape… He raped me. He took without asking and that's rape… no matter how good it felt. She thought painfully.
Wendy shook her head at the unresponsive reflection and went to turn on the hot water of the shower, there was a towel hanging up on a peg, most likely his towel, but she was beyond caring. If he could take her virginity, she could damn well take his towel.
He water felt numbingly good, it beat at her back, much like it had after her first trauma at he hands of Pan. She stayed under the hot wash for too long, her fingers wrinkled and her body shook from standing but she refused to get out. It wasn't until she heard the door open that her breath hitched.
A flash of red hair near the curtain proved it was him, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the cheap fabric and he pulled it back slightly to stare at her.
"Hello, little girl." He smirked, and let the curtain fall back closed. Wendy shivered in the too hot water, she wrapped her arms around her middle and tried to stay standing. The sounds of undressing came from the other side of the curtain, a zipper being pulled and yanking of fabric, sounds that otherwise would seem so meaningless and unimportant, but in the circumstance seemed like a thunderstorm in her ears.
The curtain pulled back again, but this time he slipped into the shower. There was dirt on his face and the tell tale stain of blood on his hands, she looked down at them.
"What happened?" Her voice was laced with more worry than she cared to notice.
"Don't worry, little girl. Just a little straightening up around here." He put them under the water and used his honey soap to scrub at the stains until the water ran pink down the drain.
Wendy stepped back into the bottom of the spray as he moved forward to clean himself. "Why did things need straightening?" She asked meekly, but her curiosity was too much.
"Lets just say… I don't like it when my Lost Boys start acting like men." He wasn't facing her, but she could almost feel his scowl.
"You killed him?" Her words were soft, and she cursed herself for letting the thought escape her lips, but it fluttered none the less to his ears, even in the downpour of the shower.
Pan slowly moved to face her, she looked up and into his eyes, there was no fury in them though, not like she had expected. There was a pity, as if she was so innocent of the world. To his world at least.
"I did." He started rubbing the soap over her shoulders. "As I do when it has to be done."
"Don't you care about them?" She asked, squeezing her arms around her middle tighter.
"I care about my main boys, I really do, but most of them are just pawns and pawns are disposable." Her breath hitched as he focused on cleaning her chest, rubbing the soap gently over each bruise, whether old or new.
"Am I disposable?" She whispered.
He looked up at he with genuine disbelief. Never before had she seen his mouth hang open and his tongue be lost for words. Pan stepped back and stared at her, he set the soap down on the edge of the tub and reached out his arms to pull hers away from her body. Their hands intertwined and he looked down as if embarrassed at the thought, and instead of pulling her to him, he took a soft step towards her and looked into her eyes intently.
"Never, Wendy Darling. You are never disposable. Because you are mine and I… " He stopped himself and leaned in to kiss her. Right before he went to close the gap he spoke. "Plus, one girl is worth twenty boys." She dodged his affection by turning her head sharply so his lips landed on her cheek. They froze as contact was made with her skin that was not her lips, and she felt him pull away. One of his hands let go of hers and trailed up her arm and neck until it rested on her cheek and pulling her face back to look at him. It was hard to keep her eyes open in the falling water, but she forced herself to stare at him, to challenge him.
"What do you…"
"Don't ask, little girl." He warned his eyes darkening as he leaned in and held her head in place so his lips molded perfectly over hers.
"I will ask." She as he pulled back slightly, her free hand coming up to press against his chest as her own form of warning.
"What do you want me to say?" He whispered leaning his forehead against hers, freeing her other hand and wrapping his arm around her waist, effectively pulling her towards him.
"You know, little boy." She said, her fear lacing her voice. He smiled at her little jab and his thumb ran across her lips, stopping in the right corner.
"You know you have a little kiss right here. Right in the corner of your mouth, a little kiss that I took. You gave me that kiss, Wendy Darling."
"I didn't give you anything." She trashed in his hold until he let go and she stepped behind the spray of water, letting the fake rainfall separate them effectively. "You took it all. You took my kiss, it wasn't supposed to be you, it wasn't supposed to belong to you but you took it. You terrible boy! You took something from me and I can't get it back, I can't give it to someone I love! YOU took that from me, that chance. And I will always remember it, always remember how you took it. TOOK it. It was never yours… it wasn't supposed to be yours…" She started crying, soft sobs murmured from her lips, and he pulled her closed to him. Settling under his chin, as his one hand rubbed along her back in his attempted to comfort her.
"Sh, my little Wendy bird. Sh…" She felt him kiss her hair. Wendy bird? The name hadn't passed her, but she didn't feel like questioning it… given that his other nickname was more than unnerving.
"Why did you do that?" She dared to ask. "Was it just because you wanted to? Or did you…"
"Did I what?" His voice was muffled by her damp hair and the running water.
"Did you ever feel something for someone… or for me?" She asked quietly into the skin of his shoulder, her eyes staring at a collection of freckles on his collarbone. His body stiffened, and she prepared herself for the worst. Pan stepped back from her, to the other end of the shower, leaving her in a spray of rain that made the moment seem even more melodramatic than it needed to be.
"Never. The very sound of it offends me." He leaned up against the wall and stared at her darkly, crossing his arms. Wendy moved from under the water and reached out, she took a deep breath and brought her hand to his face, as he had just done with her. "Why do you have to spoil everything?!" He slapped her hand away. "We were having fun, I taught you things, lots of things. What more could there be?"
"There is so much more." She yelled at him, unable to maintain her quiet fear.
"What? What else is there?" He yelled at her, matching her confused rage, the sound of his voice pushed her back deep into the spray.
"I don't know." She dipped her head, afraid to say the word. "I guess it become clearer when you grow up a little."
His head snapped up and he looked at her with all the malice he could muster in his rage. "I will never grow up. And you can't make me."
"Fine! Stay an insolent child for all I care!" She went to leave the shower, unable to look at him much longer.
"Wendy." He grabbed her arm, gently. She knew that trying to escape him was useless. If he wanted her to stay, she would stay.
"What's so bad about it, huh?" She whispered as he pulled her back into the warm water.
"I will not be a grown up, to much work, not enough play."
"But isn't it a grown up thing that thing we did?" She challenged as he positioned her so her back was against the wall.
"No… it was an animal thing… a primal need…" He said between kisses on her shoulder and collarbone.
"I don't understand." She signed as his hands ran down her naked sides.
"I'll teach you everything." He whispered as he hoisted one of her thighs up and around his hip. She hissed, still sore from the night before. "Don't worry, little girl, not until tonight. But to hold you over…" She felt his fingers run along her slit, but she was distracted by the sensation of his lips on her skin. His impossible lips caressing her skin like he owned her. Which he did. Shivers ran down her spin as she sunk into her fate, she gave into the ache in her belly and let him own her.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine another hand, another face, but all she could see was Peter. Her breath hitched as he slid a finger inside her, his thumb ran over her swollen nub. Wendy cursed herself for her body's responses. How could it betray her so? The knot in her stomach was tightening and she didn't know how she could go on without him breaking it, breaking her.
"Does that feel good, little Wendy bird?" He asked in her ear as he was grinding his pleasure against her thigh.
"Mm…." Was all she could answer as he quickened his pace and added another finger to her sore center. But instead of the harsh bites from the night before he was kissing the corner of her mouth gently.
With one more swipe over her swollen pleasure his fingers had her crashing over the edge and into oblivion. Wendy sighed and leaned against the shower wall as he backed up and worked himself to finish in his hand.
"Ha, see? We're going to just have fun." She nodded and took his hand as he offered.
They stepped out of the shower and Pan helped her towel dry, he ran his hands through her hair and wrapped her in a thin robe he'd brought. Wendy looked at her self in the mirror and saw the flush of pleasure on her cheeks and the changing red headed boy behind her. He was beautiful, but he was a child and she was nothing but his doll.
"Come, little girl. I have something for you. Had the boys put it together." Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her through the door, they left the grand bedroom and he walked her up stairs that curved around like they were going up a tower.
"How far up is it?" Wendy asked after what seemed like forever.
"Not much further." He pulled her along by her hand now. After a few more steps they entered a little room. "It used to be the apartment of the guy who worked nights at the fun house, but we fixed it up and now it's yours."
The room was small, it had a little door off to the side that she guessed led to a bathroom. Blue sheets covered the iron, canopy bed that sat against the far wall, with large pillows and blankets piled at he foot. There was a dresser that had a candle on it and some nick knacks, the rug underfoot was woven in an oval with different whites and blues. But the grandest thing about the room was the massive window that looked out over the shore.
"Peter… why?" Wendy felt tears in her eyes, not from joy or gratefulness, but from terror. She was literally in a dollhouse. Nothing but a possession. How many girls had he put in this room? What number was she?
Wendy furrowed her brow momentarily in her confusion, an action that Peter hadn't missed as he walked to face her.
"It's for you. Wendy, it's all for you. We built you a home here." He played with a piece of her hair as he watched her. The lines of his face were wrinkled in frustration, he didn't understand.
"How many others?" She whispered bravely.
Peter cocked his head to the side, he looked at her with confusion. "I don't know what you mean."
"How many other girls have you put in this little doll house?" Wendy spat with malice. Her eyes had turned dark, she was sick of being weak, of having to listen and take him. Wendy was angry and she felt her strength build with her anger.
"None. Wendy, little Wendy bird…" He tried to touch her face but she slapped his had away. Peter looked at his denied limb and his eyes became angry too, angrier than hers ever could mimic.
"Liar!" She pushed past him and stared out through the giant glass, to the sea and a free world.
"Do you not like it here Wendy?" He sounded as if he was actually surprised by the idea, his naivety made her blood boil under her skin. She wanted to slap him and scream and claw at his childish face. She wanted to make him grow up.
"No, Peter. I loathe it." Was all she could say, she couldn't even face him.
"You will."
Wendy turned, her eyes were leaking tears that constantly streamed down her cheeks. She was never going to get out of there. Wendy wanted to die, she wanted to crash her body threw the window and let the glass cut her into a million pieces just so she wouldn't have to endure this little boy for any longer. Because no matter how strong her will, no matter how strong her resolve to stay herself. Wendy knew that she would break under him, in more ways than one. She already had.
"I won't… one day I may seem like I am happy here and… with you… but it will be a false joy. It will be you fucking with my mind. And my… my body. I, me, Wendy Darling, will never love it here. I will never love you." Her hands were shaking as she spoke, he just stared at her, not making a move. Peter's green eyes pierced her skin, they were so sharp and heated, she felt as if they'd flay her where she stood.
"I want to give you something." He broke his demeanor and walked towards her as if she'd never said anything. His hand pulled something from his back pocket as he walked. Wendy didn't have time to react as he stood right in front of her, uncomfortably close, she turned her head so she wouldn't have to look at him directly.
"Peter, I don't think you were…" He slapped her, the blow hit her hard, sending her reeling to the window. Wet tears slid down her face as she tried to process the moment. It was all just a game to him. She never had any real say, any real power. In the end she was nothing but a punching bag and a whore.
"This is for you, it's a necklace." He held up a pendent of some kind, it had a gold chain that was long, but short enough so she couldn't slip it off her head and a black ball at he end. Peter stood over her for a moment before offering a hand to help her up, her cheek was still red from his blow but she could stand without wobbling.
Before Wendy could do anything he was fastening the pendent around her neck, his fingers brushed her hair away and were quick and nimble as they closed clasp.
"What is it?" She asked softly, rolling the black ball through her fingers. It was bumpy, with a cap of some kind.
"A black acorn." He whispered as he ran his hands through her hair.
"Why?" She looked up at him only to meet him lips as he collected a kiss hungrily. Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her gently. He carried her to the bed and they relaxed on the too comfortable mattress with his arms still slung around her possessively.
"It's my calling card, it's my claim." He took the acorn from her and played with it as his other hand stroked her bare arm. "But with you, Wendy bird, it's going to be ours, to claim you and you to claim me. It'll be our kiss."
Wendy's brow furrowed, he was just covering up the fact that he literally has laid a claim to her now, that he sees her as a possession. But another part of her sees his childish liking, she can see he really does like her. The problem with trusting Peter Pan is that he can seem so genuine, when he is just playing his own game to get what he wants. And Wendy isn't even sure what that is anymore.
"Shouldn't it go both ways?" She said into the side of his boney chest.
"Hm?"
"Shouldn't you wear something that's from me? A kiss is both ways." Her logic was most likely to be lost on him, and she had nothing to give. But maybe it would be an excuse to not touch him for a few moments.
"You are a smart one, Wendy bird." The feeling of his lips on her hair was an odd sensation in that moment, part of her wanted to cringe away and go scrub each and every hair until there was no trace left of Peter Pan. Another part of her wanted to let him kiss her, and kiss her all over until she was devoured by his hungry kiss.
Wendy smiled and slid out of his grip, surprisingly he let her, her bare feet took her across the plush rug and to the dresser. She looked at all the nick knacks and tried to find one she could give him. Her eyes found a sewing box, it was beautifully made with intricate design of the night sky and a clasp in the shape of the moon. The shaking in her fingers made opening the small box more difficult, but she managed after a few tries and peered into the little chest. There was a needle, some thread, some pins and a thimble. A thimble. Her fingers met the bumpy surface of the small dome and she slide it on her index before turning back to the bed.
He looked at her expectedly, a broad smile strewn across his face as she scampered back to the waiting warmth in the sheets.
"A kiss." She handed him the thimble and he played with it in his fingers. Peter's smile in that moment wasn't anything malicious or playful… it was something real and mature. The curve of his lip up just slightly and the bright shine in his eyes was so much louder than his large childish grin. For a split second Wendy saw the grown-up this boy could be, with all the grown-up baggage that she felt they already possessed.
"You're my perfect little girl, Wendy bird." He whispered into the nook of her neck after pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Peter, look at me." She was surprised by the demand in her voice. But he obeyed and she squirmed so their faces were only inches from each other.
"What is it?" Skin pressed to skin as his forehead touched hers.
"If… if that's our kiss… than what is this?" Wendy forced herself to peck his lips, just barely so he knew what she was talking about. She just wanted to keep him occupied for a few more moments before the inevitable happened.
"I… I guess… uh…" Soft laughter filled the room.
"A thimble."
"Hm?"
"Peter Pan, I'm going to give you a thimble." She leaned in and kissed him, a primal part of her awoke in the moment her lips touched his. In reality she felt an insane attraction to him and wanted him like water in a desert even if her logic stopped her from showing it or thinking it. But inevitably, she did want him. Hands raked up her back and pulled her thin robe from her clean skin.
Wendy did the only thing she could to have any hope of keeping her sanity at least for another night. She lost herself, tangled her limbs and shut off her mind, wholly and utterly in the sensation that was Peter Pan.
