This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some references to the original Barrie novel
[1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
NOTE: Some more Indian stuff here...forgive any apparent crassness that may occur.
ALSO: For any of you 'faithful' readers out there, a fair warning that it may be a little while before my next chapter is up, as it looks to be a doozy...so please be patient! :-)
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...and neither does Disney!
Here's Chapter XIII.... More comments please, good or bad! :-)
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XIII. AMBIVALENT CONTEMPLATIONS
A small fire blazed at Wendy's feet, and she was thankful for it. Only the flimsy and tattered nightdress she wore stood between her and the chilly Neverland night. She was dreadfully tired, but even as she sat upon the bough inside the large wigwam, she could not quite allow herself to drift off. Something decisive was astir, she was sure of it.
Only one Indian brave stood guard over Wendy with a lone spear in hand, for the rest of the tribe had taken notice of her injury. This would most assuredly stay any attempts at an escape. After all, she was just but a little paleface girl – how far could she possibly expect to get? (Silly Indians knew not Wendy Darling as we do...)
After what seemed an eternity of waiting about, the deerskin and mesh flap over the entrance of the hut parted, and inside stepped a most happily familiar face – none other than the Princess Tiger Lily. Wendy was quite relieved, and she met the younger girl's arrival with a smile.
But Tiger Lily did not return the gesture. "Aquai, Wendy-Lady," she huffed, her arms folded cautiously. "Why are you come back here?"
Wendy's merry countenance diminished. "I...well, Peter brought me back..."
"Peter no bring you back!" Tiger Lily snapped.
"He most certainly did!" Wendy retorted despite her mounting ill ease.
"One of you lie," the Princess said. "We find out who."
And with that, she moved to leave, but before she did so, she turned once more to Wendy with a decidedly tentative expression.
"Wendy-Lady...do you, uhm...are you bring your brothers here too?"
"My brothers? No, Princess, they are not with me."
"Ah," Tiger Lily blurted, regaining her regality. "Of course." And she slipped out of the wigwam, leaving Wendy most befuddled – she had quite forgotten her brother John's brief affections with the warrior princess.
And those memories would have to wait another day to be rediscovered, for Wendy's full attention was quickly seized up by the next figure to breach the wigwam. Her mouth fell completely agape and her heart leapt into her throat when there she saw Peter Pan standing once more before her.
"Peter!" she squealed.
"Wendy," Peter responded quietly, looking terribly agitated and confused.
They remained in an awkward calm for quite a few moments until Wendy suddenly felt her face become severe, and she heard herself blurt out:
"Where have you been?!"
Peter was visibly taken aback by the outburst, and indeed Wendy herself had not counted on these being the very first words she would speak to Peter upon seeing him again. Yet, there they were, and they could not be retracted now.
Peter's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'where have I been'?!"
"I have been waiting weeks for you to come for me!"
"'Come for you'?" Peter was impossibly lost now. "Come for you where?"
"The Jolly Roger! I have been waiting and waiting ever since you left me on that rock!"
Peter became ashen. He had completely forgotten the whole incident, until now. "Have you still been here this whole time?" Granted, Peter was a horrible judge of time, but even he could discern that some amount of it had passed since the episode on the cliff.
"Of course I have!" Wendy was growing desperately discouraged. "Why didn't you come for me?"
"Wendy, I thought you had gone back home!" Peter was admittedly relieved to have a valid explanation for her grievance.
"What? Why would you have thought that?"
"The mermaids told me so!"
"The mermaids!" Wendy stalled in her tracks at hearing this. She could not very well argue with what the mermaids had said. But why would they have said it? No matter – 'twas not the mermaids who were Wendy's concern here.
"So, that's it then?" she spat out, weeks of frustration and longing bubbling to the surface. "The mermaids told you I had gone, and that was it? You took it as oath and did nothing more to find out for sure?"
Peter set his hands on his hips impudently. "Why would they lie?"
"Oh, I don't know!" Wendy rather felt like throwing something breakable. "Why does ANYONE do ANYTHING in Neverland? Perhaps they are jealous of me like that impertinent little pixie of yours!"
Peter took a heavy step backward as if he had just been shot. "You shouldn't say such things, Wendy."
Wendy drew her lips together tightly, becoming quite ashamed at her very unladylike snits. "I'm sorry, Peter, I did not mean it like that..."
At her apology, Peter relaxed his stance. Then he quickly recalled something she had said just moments before, and he approached, crouching down before her at the edge of the bough.
"Did you say you have been on the Jolly Roger all this time?"
"Yes."
He glanced over her various wounds. "Hook has been holding you captive!"
"No!" Wendy set him straight quickly. "In fact, Peter, he has taken quite good care of me. I would not be alive if it weren't for him."
Peter scoffed at once. "Captain Hook? Take care of you? Nonsense."
"'Tis the truth. If he had not found me on that rock, I'd certainly be dead, Peter."
The Boy felt himself grow fairly defensive. He caught Wendy's drift perfectly – that he was, once more, somehow inadequate to Captain Hook. He rose to his feet abruptly.
"I did come back to look for you after I found Tink, but you weren't there! So, I asked the mermaids, and they told me you left! What more do you want me to say? What more could I have done?"
Wendy's eyes began to well up. "How could you have left me in the first place, Peter? Why did you..." But her voice was trapped in her throat.
Peter so hated seeing Wendy cry. He believed there was not a more vile sight. Every tear from her eye screamed for him to speak plainly for once. And he was not immune to it.
"Look, Wendy," He spoke softly, his eyes cast resentfully away from hers, "I could not have saved you from that cliff."
Wendy blinked up at him.
"And even if I had known you were on the pirate ship, I could not have saved you from that either."
"Peter..." Wendy sniffed.
He turned to her once again. "I can't save you anymore, Wendy."
A sickening knot turned in Wendy's stomach. "What do you mean by that?"
Peter was too young and careless to know quite how to explain it to her, and his frustration at even his own lack of understanding threw him into a minor fit. He tossed his arms up into the air.
"What would others think of me? How could the Lost Boys continue to look to me as their leader? I have to have a certain standing with them, you know?"
Wendy could not quite believe her ears. What was he riling about?
"And, well," he continued pompously. "How would it look to them and all other children if Peter Pan went around saving grown-ups?!"
Wendy drew in a heavy breath and said through gritted teeth: "Peter. Once and for all, I am NOT – "
"– Not a grown-up, yes, so you keep saying," Peter dismissed. "But do you know what?" He leaned in dauntingly close to her. "I think it is your 'biggest pretend'."
Wendy went thunderstruck upon hearing the words she once spoke to him thrown back in her face so cruelly. She was too shocked to cry or do anything at all except stare into his heartless eyes. How utterly malicious. How so very...well, CHILDISH. Could this truly be the same boy upon whom Wendy had bestowed her special Kiss just a few years before?
Just then, the horrible tension was mercifully broken by a small uproar outside the wigwam, and Tiger Lily came charging back inside.
"Peter!" she wailed. "The pirates are come!"
Peter rose to his feet and reached for his dagger, but Tiger Lily put her hand to his arm.
"No. This between us and them. You go, quick!"
"But...!"
"Go, NOW, Peter!"
Peter huffed, disappointed. The Princess began nudging him toward the door, but he resisted just enough to address Wendy one last time.
"Wendy, go home! You don't belong here! You must leave, for GOOD this time!"
"Peter!" Wendy grappled to her feet, wanting to commune with him further, but in a flash, he was gone, once more leaving her to fend for herself. How could he dismiss her so easily? But what Wendy did not realize, sadly, was that these words he had just spoken to her was the last way of which he knew how to save her. He was well aware what lay in store for her – in store from them ALL – if she did not get away from Captain Hook at once. But she could not see this. All she saw was the boy she once loved turn his back on her yet again.
In light of these recent events, we could not wholly condemn poor Wendy if she had decided right then to throw herself into a tearful collapse upon the bough and remain there for eternity. But this was not Wendy's inclination. Adrenaline coursed through her veins like molten lava, and all she could think to do was claw her way out of the Indian encampment and back to the one place where she knew she would be welcomed – the Jolly Roger.
Oh, and wouldn't THAT just show Peter Pan a thing or two as well! Just who was he to order her about anyhow? As if she NEEDED rescuing like some absurd damsel in distress! Was she not the notorious Red-Handed Jill?
Wendy took an inattentive step forward, but when she did, the guard at the door did so as well. Under normal circumstances (or what may pass for "normal" in Neverland), Wendy might have opted to reason with the brave, but she had no such interest in this approach now. So instead, she reached down to snatch up a couple burning logs from the fire at her feet and began lobbing them furiously at the Indian, paying no heed whatever to how it burned her delicate hands, for her skin burned enough on its own in anger and frustration.
The guard was soon quite overcome not just with fire and wood but with shock as to this ostensibly meek girl's sudden ferocity, and he was driven far enough from the door of the wigwam that Wendy could make her escape. But she was sure to seize the felled guard's spear on her way.
When she emerged outside, she could scarcely discern that daybreak was upon the island through the thick fog of gunpowder from the approaching pirates' warning shots. The Indians took their battle stance, arrows and tomahawks at the ready, as the raucous bunch of buccaneers encroached their camp.
"WAIT!" Wendy bellowed from the top of her lungs. She began to flail her arms about, limping vaguely toward the pirates still wielding their weapons. "Don't! Please! I will come willingly!"
She was now standing at the heart of the imminent battleground, and straight away Tiger Lily stepped forward.
"No! You not go! You are captive!"
Wendy spun around on her good ankle, the spear in her hands brandished threateningly at the Indian princess. "I shall go with the pirates, Your Highness. You may fight if you like, but you will not do so at my expense."
Tiger Lily furnished a great scowl, one befitting of a girl her age, and took a begrudging step back toward her people. For their part, the pirates had ceased their advance once Wendy had come into sight, and they stood their ground whilst she hobbled toward them, her spear remaining at hand. Having finally reached them, Smee stepped forward and escorted the young lady out of harm's way, the rest of the crewmen enveloping around them as they made their way safely back to the boats which the pirates had reclaimed.
To Wendy's surprise, the pirates almost at once withdrew their weapons and started to follow she and the bosun back to the boat.
"They are retreating!" she said aloud.
"Aye," Smee affirmed.
"They are not to do battle?"
"Not this night, miss. So says the Captain."
"The Captain," Wendy murmured, scanning the bustle of oncoming pirates. "Where is Captain Hook?"
Smee settled himself into the dinghy. "'E broke off from us once we came ashore. Said we was to go get you whilst he tended to 'private matters'. I'm supposin' 'e meant to go retrieve the loot 'imself."
Perhaps so. Wendy had a little time to mull it over as the pirates returned to their boats and congregated jovially.
"Ah, there 'e is now, I reckon," Smee announced for the benefit of Wendy.
Indeed, as Wendy turned her attention toward Smee's gaze, she saw the sinister figure of the man emerge from the shadows of the camp, attired in his very best finery – as was his preference for battle – and striding toward them quite unceremoniously. Wendy saw him sheath his cutlass, and she noticed something suspending from his claw – something that left a dark, gooey trail behind it as the Captain walked. Hook wore, in addition to his elaborate wide-brimmed hat, a rather grim expression, but one that also bore a hint of smug self-satisfaction. The latter only intensified whence he laid eyes upon Wendy sitting securely in his dinghy.
The girl sat quiet as the Captain approached, looking over his men with broad approval. In turn, the other pirates were quick to inquire about the messy item dangling from his hook, and the Captain was only too happy to hold it aloft for all to see.
"Quite a lamentable lot of loose lips in this tribe," Hook recited gauchely, much to the boisterous delight of his dogs.
'Twas then that Wendy realized he was parading the freshly shorn scalp of an Indian. She was quite sure it had belonged to the warrior who seized her from Hook's cabin.
When Hook's eyes once more fixed on Wendy, they were greeted by a frightful disgust. And lo how the pirate captain suddenly felt ashamed! Thus his arrogance swiftly fell flat. Smee removed his hat and let Hook drop the scalp inside for safekeeping until it could be properly treated and made into a fine trophy of the Captain's victory.
Hook proceeded into his boat with a degree of ill ease at Wendy's icy stare. Somehow, he had managed to save her AND displease her all at once! How was he to regain her esteem now?
As the Captain prepared to take his seat next to the mum girl, the bald, wiry pirate at the oars addressed him:
"But Cap'n? What about the treasure? Where is it?"
Hook sat, cleaning his claw with a handkerchief. "'Treasure', Mr. Flanigan?" He grinned. "I believe thou art sitting directly across from it."
All eyes shifted to Wendy, including Hook's, who looked upon the girl with both pride and hope. But Wendy's eyes only became colder. Had he just likened her to a plunder? Once more, Hook saw his attempts at flattery fall dejectedly to pieces.
Wendy turned away as Hook continued to wipe the sticky red clumps from his claw. Her stomach recoiled at the sight, though she had already found herself in quite a disgruntled state since she left the camp. I needn't reiterate why. And the evident sight of Captain Hook's gruesome malice but inches from her only exacerbated her condition. But truly, no amount of blood or butchery could match the carnage which she felt had been inflicted upon her that night from Peter Pan.
The pirate convoy rowed back to the Jolly Roger with no impediment and with nary a word exchanged aboard the Captain's dinghy. Of course Hook could not have really expected Wendy to throw herself into his arms with gratitude upon her retrieval from the Indians, but surely a simple Thank You was not too great a request! He'd gone to much trouble and taken in many a pining breath at her brief absence for her to behave so blinking sourly toward him now. But somehow, Hook was able to talk himself into letting it be. Perhaps the Indians had said or done something harmful to her whilst in their captivity. She would be back to her sweet, maddeningly evasive self in no time. This was Hook's great hope.
As was becoming quite the ritual, Wendy's return to the pirate ship saw her at once to the infirmary for the Doc's examination. He redressed her troublesome ankle in a clean bandage, applied a smelly ointment to the stitches on her arm, and dipped her scalded hands into a bucket of cold water.
"Ain't a patch on ye left fer bruisin' I reckon!" was Doc's feeble attempt at levity.
Indeed, Wendy was beginning to feel like Frankenstein's Monster. She said nothing and returned quietly to the Captain's quarters.
She passed Hook along the way as he supervised the reclamation of his boats on deck. He anxiously stood at attention at once to her presence and tried to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze to the ground as she walked on and disappeared into his cabin. A tiny finger tapped at Hook's mind, unobtrusively at first, but it soon grew most insistent. It adamantly urged Hook to go to the girl, to seek out the cause for her malaise and promise to do all he could to right it for her. And, such a slave Captain Hook was to the tendencies of his own mind, he could do nothing but comply.
Hook found Wendy within the bedchamber, sitting on the edge of the bed. A weariness clung to her like a parasite.
"What is it, Wendy?" Hook asked it rather more stoutly that he had intended. "Did the Redskins harm you in some way?"
"No," came the muted reply.
Hook bit at the corner of his lip cautiously. "Was it...because of that warrior...?"
Wendy shook her head. "No." Then she looked at him sternly. "Although it was wholly unnecessary of you!"
"'Twas merely retribution," Hook said matter-of-factly. "He took something which was precious to me, so I took something which was precious to him."
"Yes, 'tis all so simple as that!" Wendy spat, rising from the bed. "I am just some pretty little bauble for everyone to toss about this blasted island with not a care as to what I may have to say on the matter!"
"Not in the least have I ever regarded you so!" Hook bellowed defensively, only partly lying. "And you would be wise not to question my dealings which don't concern you!"
"I should say it certainly concerns me! You MUTILATED a man at my cause! Thus I believe I have every right to take issue with the way in which you carry out your foul 'dealings', Captain!"
"My darling Wendy," Hook hissed, his patience vanishing rapidly. "You are in the company of PIRATES. I think you are often too quick to forget this."
Wendy tried to remain firm and stay her tears, though it took all she had left. "I have been a part of this ship for some time now, and as such, I believe I am permitted my equal say in the company's doctrines."
Hook's jaw hung somewhat agape at Wendy's audacity, though part of him was rather amused and, dare I say, excited by it. "Oh, you do, do you? Well, in that case, allow me to acquaint our Red-Handed Jill with the 'doctrines' of piracy."
He began to advance on Wendy, but she stood her ground.
"We have but one simple philosophy, my dear," Hook conveyed with oozing intimidation as he approached.
He held his claw aloft to her. "One: You want it. Two:..."
He suddenly took her tight in his arms. "You take it! And Three:..."
He pressed his claw to her throat. "Then you've got it."
Wendy froze immediately, every inch of her alerted to his actions, and feeling only his breath but not her own. Abandoned now by his own rationale, Hook began to incline his face deliberately toward hers, with one and only one destination on his uncaged mind. And Wendy found she no longer had any choice.
"I saw Peter," she blurted quickly.
Indeed, as expected, Hook stopped dead in his tracks, his half-closed eyes now fully open and his head erect once more.
"You what?" he stammered.
"That is what has been vexing me," she explained hopefully, still rigid in his grasp. "He came to me at the Indian camp."
'Twas as if someone had just doused Hook with ice-cold water. He released Wendy and took a step back. "You...saw him?"
Wendy nodded solemnly, the dreadful memory of the confrontation sinking her disposition once more.
"What did he do?" Hook practically demanded, his brow creased sharply.
With steadily moistening eyes, Wendy shook her head. "He 'did' nothing. We only spoke briefly."
At once both concerned and morbidly curious, Hook progressed to her again. "What did he say to you, Wendy?"
She took an inordinate amount of time deliberating whether she should divulge anything further to the Captain, but ultimately she so needed to bear her burden aloud.
"He...he told me to go home," she said tearfully. "He said I do not belong here, and that..." She turned her back to Hook and directed her testimony to the wall. "He says that he will no longer save me...That he has some sort of silly 'reputation' he must uphold."
Hook saw Wendy's shoulders lurch slightly, and he knew she was crying. Of course, he had found himself in this situation before – watching Wendy weep for that insolent boy, but this was a scene of graver consequence. The previous occasion was simply the transitory result of a childish squabble, to be quickly forgotten by morning's first light. What Hook witnessed presently was unbridled heartbreak – a perfect abandonment. And it turned even Hook's black heart pink with a breathing compassion. 'Twas also his opportunity knocking soundly.
"Pan is a fool, Wendy," he avowed. "You mustn't pay heed to him nor waste a single more tear at his expense."
Wendy only shook her head and sadly leaned forward against the wall. Her sobs flowed freely now.
They both recognized what was currently afoot, that Wendy had regrettably devolved to the precise spot where Hook had first found her. It was true that he had her precisely where he wanted – good and fed-up with Peter Pan – but he had not counted on such desolation to befall her once the sentiment was achieved. She was desperately on the brink of completely shutting down all over again. Was Hook really to relive the past few weeks, to painstakingly cater to the girl's needs and win her trust and confidence anew? No, his patience had been stretched to the limit. He had few cards left to play, and he was damned tired of pretending. Even when the Boy was not at hand, oh how he still managed to destroy everything!
"He is of no use to you, my dear," Hook continued fervently, nearing the wall to her. "He cannot possibly ever provide you with all the things which you require and so deeply deserve."
As gently as he could, the Captain reached out and turned Wendy to face him, her wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks shredding his superego to bits.
"He knows not how to love, how to care, how to ache and yearn for those things which he has forever barred himself. He could never be a comfort to you, my darling."
He placed his hand and hook against the wall on either side of Wendy's shoulders. His voice began to tremble as his id consumed him completely. "But I can comfort you, Wendy. Please, just let me comfort you..."
His words had barely touched the morning air when suddenly Hook leaned forward and pressed his lips hard against Wendy's, nearly sending the back of her head through the wall. It was so fierce with longing and succor, but Wendy's thoughts were far too encased with Peter Pan, and all she could think of, I must humbly report, was when last her lips had touched another's... Hook was quick to be painfully aware of this himself whence he felt the melancholy caress of Wendy's freshest tears puddle against his own cheek.
He pulled himself away and stared down at the girl, her head now hanging pitifully between her shoulders, and he fast became incensed at this sight, of the fair and beautiful Wendy reduced to such wretchedness.
"This time," Hook snarled, "the Boy goes too far."
He tore himself away from the wall and charged out of the bedchamber with such a portentous gait that Wendy felt compelled to follow. From the doorway she saw Hook snatch up a lantern from a notch beside the main entrance of the cabin.
"Please!" she exclaimed hurriedly, and he stalled. "Please don't harm him, Captain."
With a sardonic snort, Hook retrieved his hat and placed it grandly atop his head. "Dear girl...'Tis my whole raison d'être."
His jaw tightened bitterly, Hook stole from the cabin. Wendy tried to scurry after him, but she was promptly intercepted by Smee.
"You best stay put, miss," he instructed.
"Oh, but he is going to do something awful, I know it!" Wendy insisted.
"Now, now, 'e won't get very far, I can assure ye."
"How can you be so certain?"
"Jus take me word fer it. 'E'll return afore long with nary a spec o' blood on his sword."
Smee knew this because he knew something further which Wendy did not – that Hook really had no idea as to the location of Peter's hideout. But he would most steadfastly keep this to himself.
Wendy retreated into the cabin, the back of her hand aimlessly drifting to her assailed mouth. No, Captain Hook could not possibly do something detrimental to Peter. If he truly meant all the words he had offered to her – if the little flame lingering upon her lips had any veracity whatsoever – the pirate would suspend his fury for the Boy. But as Wendy told Hook himself only the evening before, one could never take a pirate too lightly...most especially a pirate who could so flippantly maim a mermaid or an Indian before her very eyes.
Beyond the security of the captain's quarters, morning glistened amicably all about the island. And somewhere amongst Neverland's everlasting sparkle, a dreary man was skulking about the deepest pits of the jungle, searching as ever for an impossible reckoning. Wendy stayed close to the cabin window and kept her eyes fixed upon the sky, for if Captain Hook were to at last have his triumph over Peter Pan, the Heavens would soon proclaim it so.
NOTE: Some more Indian stuff here...forgive any apparent crassness that may occur.
ALSO: For any of you 'faithful' readers out there, a fair warning that it may be a little while before my next chapter is up, as it looks to be a doozy...so please be patient! :-)
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...and neither does Disney!
Here's Chapter XIII.... More comments please, good or bad! :-)
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XIII. AMBIVALENT CONTEMPLATIONS
A small fire blazed at Wendy's feet, and she was thankful for it. Only the flimsy and tattered nightdress she wore stood between her and the chilly Neverland night. She was dreadfully tired, but even as she sat upon the bough inside the large wigwam, she could not quite allow herself to drift off. Something decisive was astir, she was sure of it.
Only one Indian brave stood guard over Wendy with a lone spear in hand, for the rest of the tribe had taken notice of her injury. This would most assuredly stay any attempts at an escape. After all, she was just but a little paleface girl – how far could she possibly expect to get? (Silly Indians knew not Wendy Darling as we do...)
After what seemed an eternity of waiting about, the deerskin and mesh flap over the entrance of the hut parted, and inside stepped a most happily familiar face – none other than the Princess Tiger Lily. Wendy was quite relieved, and she met the younger girl's arrival with a smile.
But Tiger Lily did not return the gesture. "Aquai, Wendy-Lady," she huffed, her arms folded cautiously. "Why are you come back here?"
Wendy's merry countenance diminished. "I...well, Peter brought me back..."
"Peter no bring you back!" Tiger Lily snapped.
"He most certainly did!" Wendy retorted despite her mounting ill ease.
"One of you lie," the Princess said. "We find out who."
And with that, she moved to leave, but before she did so, she turned once more to Wendy with a decidedly tentative expression.
"Wendy-Lady...do you, uhm...are you bring your brothers here too?"
"My brothers? No, Princess, they are not with me."
"Ah," Tiger Lily blurted, regaining her regality. "Of course." And she slipped out of the wigwam, leaving Wendy most befuddled – she had quite forgotten her brother John's brief affections with the warrior princess.
And those memories would have to wait another day to be rediscovered, for Wendy's full attention was quickly seized up by the next figure to breach the wigwam. Her mouth fell completely agape and her heart leapt into her throat when there she saw Peter Pan standing once more before her.
"Peter!" she squealed.
"Wendy," Peter responded quietly, looking terribly agitated and confused.
They remained in an awkward calm for quite a few moments until Wendy suddenly felt her face become severe, and she heard herself blurt out:
"Where have you been?!"
Peter was visibly taken aback by the outburst, and indeed Wendy herself had not counted on these being the very first words she would speak to Peter upon seeing him again. Yet, there they were, and they could not be retracted now.
Peter's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'where have I been'?!"
"I have been waiting weeks for you to come for me!"
"'Come for you'?" Peter was impossibly lost now. "Come for you where?"
"The Jolly Roger! I have been waiting and waiting ever since you left me on that rock!"
Peter became ashen. He had completely forgotten the whole incident, until now. "Have you still been here this whole time?" Granted, Peter was a horrible judge of time, but even he could discern that some amount of it had passed since the episode on the cliff.
"Of course I have!" Wendy was growing desperately discouraged. "Why didn't you come for me?"
"Wendy, I thought you had gone back home!" Peter was admittedly relieved to have a valid explanation for her grievance.
"What? Why would you have thought that?"
"The mermaids told me so!"
"The mermaids!" Wendy stalled in her tracks at hearing this. She could not very well argue with what the mermaids had said. But why would they have said it? No matter – 'twas not the mermaids who were Wendy's concern here.
"So, that's it then?" she spat out, weeks of frustration and longing bubbling to the surface. "The mermaids told you I had gone, and that was it? You took it as oath and did nothing more to find out for sure?"
Peter set his hands on his hips impudently. "Why would they lie?"
"Oh, I don't know!" Wendy rather felt like throwing something breakable. "Why does ANYONE do ANYTHING in Neverland? Perhaps they are jealous of me like that impertinent little pixie of yours!"
Peter took a heavy step backward as if he had just been shot. "You shouldn't say such things, Wendy."
Wendy drew her lips together tightly, becoming quite ashamed at her very unladylike snits. "I'm sorry, Peter, I did not mean it like that..."
At her apology, Peter relaxed his stance. Then he quickly recalled something she had said just moments before, and he approached, crouching down before her at the edge of the bough.
"Did you say you have been on the Jolly Roger all this time?"
"Yes."
He glanced over her various wounds. "Hook has been holding you captive!"
"No!" Wendy set him straight quickly. "In fact, Peter, he has taken quite good care of me. I would not be alive if it weren't for him."
Peter scoffed at once. "Captain Hook? Take care of you? Nonsense."
"'Tis the truth. If he had not found me on that rock, I'd certainly be dead, Peter."
The Boy felt himself grow fairly defensive. He caught Wendy's drift perfectly – that he was, once more, somehow inadequate to Captain Hook. He rose to his feet abruptly.
"I did come back to look for you after I found Tink, but you weren't there! So, I asked the mermaids, and they told me you left! What more do you want me to say? What more could I have done?"
Wendy's eyes began to well up. "How could you have left me in the first place, Peter? Why did you..." But her voice was trapped in her throat.
Peter so hated seeing Wendy cry. He believed there was not a more vile sight. Every tear from her eye screamed for him to speak plainly for once. And he was not immune to it.
"Look, Wendy," He spoke softly, his eyes cast resentfully away from hers, "I could not have saved you from that cliff."
Wendy blinked up at him.
"And even if I had known you were on the pirate ship, I could not have saved you from that either."
"Peter..." Wendy sniffed.
He turned to her once again. "I can't save you anymore, Wendy."
A sickening knot turned in Wendy's stomach. "What do you mean by that?"
Peter was too young and careless to know quite how to explain it to her, and his frustration at even his own lack of understanding threw him into a minor fit. He tossed his arms up into the air.
"What would others think of me? How could the Lost Boys continue to look to me as their leader? I have to have a certain standing with them, you know?"
Wendy could not quite believe her ears. What was he riling about?
"And, well," he continued pompously. "How would it look to them and all other children if Peter Pan went around saving grown-ups?!"
Wendy drew in a heavy breath and said through gritted teeth: "Peter. Once and for all, I am NOT – "
"– Not a grown-up, yes, so you keep saying," Peter dismissed. "But do you know what?" He leaned in dauntingly close to her. "I think it is your 'biggest pretend'."
Wendy went thunderstruck upon hearing the words she once spoke to him thrown back in her face so cruelly. She was too shocked to cry or do anything at all except stare into his heartless eyes. How utterly malicious. How so very...well, CHILDISH. Could this truly be the same boy upon whom Wendy had bestowed her special Kiss just a few years before?
Just then, the horrible tension was mercifully broken by a small uproar outside the wigwam, and Tiger Lily came charging back inside.
"Peter!" she wailed. "The pirates are come!"
Peter rose to his feet and reached for his dagger, but Tiger Lily put her hand to his arm.
"No. This between us and them. You go, quick!"
"But...!"
"Go, NOW, Peter!"
Peter huffed, disappointed. The Princess began nudging him toward the door, but he resisted just enough to address Wendy one last time.
"Wendy, go home! You don't belong here! You must leave, for GOOD this time!"
"Peter!" Wendy grappled to her feet, wanting to commune with him further, but in a flash, he was gone, once more leaving her to fend for herself. How could he dismiss her so easily? But what Wendy did not realize, sadly, was that these words he had just spoken to her was the last way of which he knew how to save her. He was well aware what lay in store for her – in store from them ALL – if she did not get away from Captain Hook at once. But she could not see this. All she saw was the boy she once loved turn his back on her yet again.
In light of these recent events, we could not wholly condemn poor Wendy if she had decided right then to throw herself into a tearful collapse upon the bough and remain there for eternity. But this was not Wendy's inclination. Adrenaline coursed through her veins like molten lava, and all she could think to do was claw her way out of the Indian encampment and back to the one place where she knew she would be welcomed – the Jolly Roger.
Oh, and wouldn't THAT just show Peter Pan a thing or two as well! Just who was he to order her about anyhow? As if she NEEDED rescuing like some absurd damsel in distress! Was she not the notorious Red-Handed Jill?
Wendy took an inattentive step forward, but when she did, the guard at the door did so as well. Under normal circumstances (or what may pass for "normal" in Neverland), Wendy might have opted to reason with the brave, but she had no such interest in this approach now. So instead, she reached down to snatch up a couple burning logs from the fire at her feet and began lobbing them furiously at the Indian, paying no heed whatever to how it burned her delicate hands, for her skin burned enough on its own in anger and frustration.
The guard was soon quite overcome not just with fire and wood but with shock as to this ostensibly meek girl's sudden ferocity, and he was driven far enough from the door of the wigwam that Wendy could make her escape. But she was sure to seize the felled guard's spear on her way.
When she emerged outside, she could scarcely discern that daybreak was upon the island through the thick fog of gunpowder from the approaching pirates' warning shots. The Indians took their battle stance, arrows and tomahawks at the ready, as the raucous bunch of buccaneers encroached their camp.
"WAIT!" Wendy bellowed from the top of her lungs. She began to flail her arms about, limping vaguely toward the pirates still wielding their weapons. "Don't! Please! I will come willingly!"
She was now standing at the heart of the imminent battleground, and straight away Tiger Lily stepped forward.
"No! You not go! You are captive!"
Wendy spun around on her good ankle, the spear in her hands brandished threateningly at the Indian princess. "I shall go with the pirates, Your Highness. You may fight if you like, but you will not do so at my expense."
Tiger Lily furnished a great scowl, one befitting of a girl her age, and took a begrudging step back toward her people. For their part, the pirates had ceased their advance once Wendy had come into sight, and they stood their ground whilst she hobbled toward them, her spear remaining at hand. Having finally reached them, Smee stepped forward and escorted the young lady out of harm's way, the rest of the crewmen enveloping around them as they made their way safely back to the boats which the pirates had reclaimed.
To Wendy's surprise, the pirates almost at once withdrew their weapons and started to follow she and the bosun back to the boat.
"They are retreating!" she said aloud.
"Aye," Smee affirmed.
"They are not to do battle?"
"Not this night, miss. So says the Captain."
"The Captain," Wendy murmured, scanning the bustle of oncoming pirates. "Where is Captain Hook?"
Smee settled himself into the dinghy. "'E broke off from us once we came ashore. Said we was to go get you whilst he tended to 'private matters'. I'm supposin' 'e meant to go retrieve the loot 'imself."
Perhaps so. Wendy had a little time to mull it over as the pirates returned to their boats and congregated jovially.
"Ah, there 'e is now, I reckon," Smee announced for the benefit of Wendy.
Indeed, as Wendy turned her attention toward Smee's gaze, she saw the sinister figure of the man emerge from the shadows of the camp, attired in his very best finery – as was his preference for battle – and striding toward them quite unceremoniously. Wendy saw him sheath his cutlass, and she noticed something suspending from his claw – something that left a dark, gooey trail behind it as the Captain walked. Hook wore, in addition to his elaborate wide-brimmed hat, a rather grim expression, but one that also bore a hint of smug self-satisfaction. The latter only intensified whence he laid eyes upon Wendy sitting securely in his dinghy.
The girl sat quiet as the Captain approached, looking over his men with broad approval. In turn, the other pirates were quick to inquire about the messy item dangling from his hook, and the Captain was only too happy to hold it aloft for all to see.
"Quite a lamentable lot of loose lips in this tribe," Hook recited gauchely, much to the boisterous delight of his dogs.
'Twas then that Wendy realized he was parading the freshly shorn scalp of an Indian. She was quite sure it had belonged to the warrior who seized her from Hook's cabin.
When Hook's eyes once more fixed on Wendy, they were greeted by a frightful disgust. And lo how the pirate captain suddenly felt ashamed! Thus his arrogance swiftly fell flat. Smee removed his hat and let Hook drop the scalp inside for safekeeping until it could be properly treated and made into a fine trophy of the Captain's victory.
Hook proceeded into his boat with a degree of ill ease at Wendy's icy stare. Somehow, he had managed to save her AND displease her all at once! How was he to regain her esteem now?
As the Captain prepared to take his seat next to the mum girl, the bald, wiry pirate at the oars addressed him:
"But Cap'n? What about the treasure? Where is it?"
Hook sat, cleaning his claw with a handkerchief. "'Treasure', Mr. Flanigan?" He grinned. "I believe thou art sitting directly across from it."
All eyes shifted to Wendy, including Hook's, who looked upon the girl with both pride and hope. But Wendy's eyes only became colder. Had he just likened her to a plunder? Once more, Hook saw his attempts at flattery fall dejectedly to pieces.
Wendy turned away as Hook continued to wipe the sticky red clumps from his claw. Her stomach recoiled at the sight, though she had already found herself in quite a disgruntled state since she left the camp. I needn't reiterate why. And the evident sight of Captain Hook's gruesome malice but inches from her only exacerbated her condition. But truly, no amount of blood or butchery could match the carnage which she felt had been inflicted upon her that night from Peter Pan.
The pirate convoy rowed back to the Jolly Roger with no impediment and with nary a word exchanged aboard the Captain's dinghy. Of course Hook could not have really expected Wendy to throw herself into his arms with gratitude upon her retrieval from the Indians, but surely a simple Thank You was not too great a request! He'd gone to much trouble and taken in many a pining breath at her brief absence for her to behave so blinking sourly toward him now. But somehow, Hook was able to talk himself into letting it be. Perhaps the Indians had said or done something harmful to her whilst in their captivity. She would be back to her sweet, maddeningly evasive self in no time. This was Hook's great hope.
As was becoming quite the ritual, Wendy's return to the pirate ship saw her at once to the infirmary for the Doc's examination. He redressed her troublesome ankle in a clean bandage, applied a smelly ointment to the stitches on her arm, and dipped her scalded hands into a bucket of cold water.
"Ain't a patch on ye left fer bruisin' I reckon!" was Doc's feeble attempt at levity.
Indeed, Wendy was beginning to feel like Frankenstein's Monster. She said nothing and returned quietly to the Captain's quarters.
She passed Hook along the way as he supervised the reclamation of his boats on deck. He anxiously stood at attention at once to her presence and tried to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze to the ground as she walked on and disappeared into his cabin. A tiny finger tapped at Hook's mind, unobtrusively at first, but it soon grew most insistent. It adamantly urged Hook to go to the girl, to seek out the cause for her malaise and promise to do all he could to right it for her. And, such a slave Captain Hook was to the tendencies of his own mind, he could do nothing but comply.
Hook found Wendy within the bedchamber, sitting on the edge of the bed. A weariness clung to her like a parasite.
"What is it, Wendy?" Hook asked it rather more stoutly that he had intended. "Did the Redskins harm you in some way?"
"No," came the muted reply.
Hook bit at the corner of his lip cautiously. "Was it...because of that warrior...?"
Wendy shook her head. "No." Then she looked at him sternly. "Although it was wholly unnecessary of you!"
"'Twas merely retribution," Hook said matter-of-factly. "He took something which was precious to me, so I took something which was precious to him."
"Yes, 'tis all so simple as that!" Wendy spat, rising from the bed. "I am just some pretty little bauble for everyone to toss about this blasted island with not a care as to what I may have to say on the matter!"
"Not in the least have I ever regarded you so!" Hook bellowed defensively, only partly lying. "And you would be wise not to question my dealings which don't concern you!"
"I should say it certainly concerns me! You MUTILATED a man at my cause! Thus I believe I have every right to take issue with the way in which you carry out your foul 'dealings', Captain!"
"My darling Wendy," Hook hissed, his patience vanishing rapidly. "You are in the company of PIRATES. I think you are often too quick to forget this."
Wendy tried to remain firm and stay her tears, though it took all she had left. "I have been a part of this ship for some time now, and as such, I believe I am permitted my equal say in the company's doctrines."
Hook's jaw hung somewhat agape at Wendy's audacity, though part of him was rather amused and, dare I say, excited by it. "Oh, you do, do you? Well, in that case, allow me to acquaint our Red-Handed Jill with the 'doctrines' of piracy."
He began to advance on Wendy, but she stood her ground.
"We have but one simple philosophy, my dear," Hook conveyed with oozing intimidation as he approached.
He held his claw aloft to her. "One: You want it. Two:..."
He suddenly took her tight in his arms. "You take it! And Three:..."
He pressed his claw to her throat. "Then you've got it."
Wendy froze immediately, every inch of her alerted to his actions, and feeling only his breath but not her own. Abandoned now by his own rationale, Hook began to incline his face deliberately toward hers, with one and only one destination on his uncaged mind. And Wendy found she no longer had any choice.
"I saw Peter," she blurted quickly.
Indeed, as expected, Hook stopped dead in his tracks, his half-closed eyes now fully open and his head erect once more.
"You what?" he stammered.
"That is what has been vexing me," she explained hopefully, still rigid in his grasp. "He came to me at the Indian camp."
'Twas as if someone had just doused Hook with ice-cold water. He released Wendy and took a step back. "You...saw him?"
Wendy nodded solemnly, the dreadful memory of the confrontation sinking her disposition once more.
"What did he do?" Hook practically demanded, his brow creased sharply.
With steadily moistening eyes, Wendy shook her head. "He 'did' nothing. We only spoke briefly."
At once both concerned and morbidly curious, Hook progressed to her again. "What did he say to you, Wendy?"
She took an inordinate amount of time deliberating whether she should divulge anything further to the Captain, but ultimately she so needed to bear her burden aloud.
"He...he told me to go home," she said tearfully. "He said I do not belong here, and that..." She turned her back to Hook and directed her testimony to the wall. "He says that he will no longer save me...That he has some sort of silly 'reputation' he must uphold."
Hook saw Wendy's shoulders lurch slightly, and he knew she was crying. Of course, he had found himself in this situation before – watching Wendy weep for that insolent boy, but this was a scene of graver consequence. The previous occasion was simply the transitory result of a childish squabble, to be quickly forgotten by morning's first light. What Hook witnessed presently was unbridled heartbreak – a perfect abandonment. And it turned even Hook's black heart pink with a breathing compassion. 'Twas also his opportunity knocking soundly.
"Pan is a fool, Wendy," he avowed. "You mustn't pay heed to him nor waste a single more tear at his expense."
Wendy only shook her head and sadly leaned forward against the wall. Her sobs flowed freely now.
They both recognized what was currently afoot, that Wendy had regrettably devolved to the precise spot where Hook had first found her. It was true that he had her precisely where he wanted – good and fed-up with Peter Pan – but he had not counted on such desolation to befall her once the sentiment was achieved. She was desperately on the brink of completely shutting down all over again. Was Hook really to relive the past few weeks, to painstakingly cater to the girl's needs and win her trust and confidence anew? No, his patience had been stretched to the limit. He had few cards left to play, and he was damned tired of pretending. Even when the Boy was not at hand, oh how he still managed to destroy everything!
"He is of no use to you, my dear," Hook continued fervently, nearing the wall to her. "He cannot possibly ever provide you with all the things which you require and so deeply deserve."
As gently as he could, the Captain reached out and turned Wendy to face him, her wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks shredding his superego to bits.
"He knows not how to love, how to care, how to ache and yearn for those things which he has forever barred himself. He could never be a comfort to you, my darling."
He placed his hand and hook against the wall on either side of Wendy's shoulders. His voice began to tremble as his id consumed him completely. "But I can comfort you, Wendy. Please, just let me comfort you..."
His words had barely touched the morning air when suddenly Hook leaned forward and pressed his lips hard against Wendy's, nearly sending the back of her head through the wall. It was so fierce with longing and succor, but Wendy's thoughts were far too encased with Peter Pan, and all she could think of, I must humbly report, was when last her lips had touched another's... Hook was quick to be painfully aware of this himself whence he felt the melancholy caress of Wendy's freshest tears puddle against his own cheek.
He pulled himself away and stared down at the girl, her head now hanging pitifully between her shoulders, and he fast became incensed at this sight, of the fair and beautiful Wendy reduced to such wretchedness.
"This time," Hook snarled, "the Boy goes too far."
He tore himself away from the wall and charged out of the bedchamber with such a portentous gait that Wendy felt compelled to follow. From the doorway she saw Hook snatch up a lantern from a notch beside the main entrance of the cabin.
"Please!" she exclaimed hurriedly, and he stalled. "Please don't harm him, Captain."
With a sardonic snort, Hook retrieved his hat and placed it grandly atop his head. "Dear girl...'Tis my whole raison d'être."
His jaw tightened bitterly, Hook stole from the cabin. Wendy tried to scurry after him, but she was promptly intercepted by Smee.
"You best stay put, miss," he instructed.
"Oh, but he is going to do something awful, I know it!" Wendy insisted.
"Now, now, 'e won't get very far, I can assure ye."
"How can you be so certain?"
"Jus take me word fer it. 'E'll return afore long with nary a spec o' blood on his sword."
Smee knew this because he knew something further which Wendy did not – that Hook really had no idea as to the location of Peter's hideout. But he would most steadfastly keep this to himself.
Wendy retreated into the cabin, the back of her hand aimlessly drifting to her assailed mouth. No, Captain Hook could not possibly do something detrimental to Peter. If he truly meant all the words he had offered to her – if the little flame lingering upon her lips had any veracity whatsoever – the pirate would suspend his fury for the Boy. But as Wendy told Hook himself only the evening before, one could never take a pirate too lightly...most especially a pirate who could so flippantly maim a mermaid or an Indian before her very eyes.
Beyond the security of the captain's quarters, morning glistened amicably all about the island. And somewhere amongst Neverland's everlasting sparkle, a dreary man was skulking about the deepest pits of the jungle, searching as ever for an impossible reckoning. Wendy stayed close to the cabin window and kept her eyes fixed upon the sky, for if Captain Hook were to at last have his triumph over Peter Pan, the Heavens would soon proclaim it so.