To all of those who have

reviewed, thank you so much!

I apologize for taking so long

to update this story! I'm

afraid it just wasn't going the

way I wanted it to. Either way,

the next chapter is almost

finished, and will therefore be

up very soon! Thank you again

to those who reviewed, you

have no idea how much they

mean to me!

There is a bit of suggestive

material in this chapter, but

nothing scandelous, and there

isn't too much of it. I hope you

enjoy it!

- R.H.J. )-

Chapter 12: No path through water to the happy hunting-ground

The next morning was a strange one indeed, for although Wendy had secretly forgiven the Captain for that which he claimed was imbedded in his nature, she knew that she had to get of this cursed ship. Last night had simply proven the fact that Wendy had known all along. If the Captain had something to prove, he would do so without conscience.

This was more than frightening, for Wendy knew that since Peter hadn't acted upon her rescue by now, he never would. That of course cut deeper than she could have anticipated, but it also brought the knowledge that she had only herself to rely on.

She bathed and dressed, without the Captain's daily tutelage. She was thankful for this as she devised her plan. She knew that the Captain would not stay away from her for long, if not out of desire to see her, to prove that he was forever in control.

She felt anger building within her at this sentiment; at the fact that he believed he was so powerful. There is forever something alluring and altogether irritating in a person with such over confidence.

There was a light rap on her door, and Wendy felt her stomach sinking painfully to her lower abdomen. It was Hook, surely. She smoothed her hair absently, straightening her dress and looked to the door warily.

"Come in."

With a bright, bustling motion the door was opened, and in came Smee, looking to Wendy with a large smile upon his ruddy face. He gave her a strained smile, and Wendy realized that Hook had obviously confided in him the prior evening's altercation.

"Good morning, Mister Smee," Wendy said with forced cheer.

"Hullo there Miss Wendy," Smee responded lightly, placing a large plate of steaming breakfast upon her bureau. It smelled delicious, and Wendy was more than pleased that it was Smee, and not the Captain. She wasn't sure if she would be able to stand him this early.

After a few moments of idle chatter, in which Smee promised he'd be back shortly for her plates, the older man left, giving Wendy a slight bow, before locking her inside for the day.

Wendy heaved a mighty sigh, taking the tray from the bureau quickly, and carrying it to her bed. Sitting cross-legged before her meal (a freedom she was not granted at home), she began to casually cut her egg. It was through her second bite that Wendy realized something was amiss.

In her right hand, she held a butter knife! She had been given a lavish looking silver fork and knife combination to eat her meal with! She could only gape at it for a moment, most pointedly the knife. Smee had obviously forgotten that the Captain didn't wish for her to have such weaponry!

It was then, that Wendy realized her salvation.

"You are a dreadfully poor card player, Miss Darling," Hook said with a short laugh, glancing the young girl over slowly. "You're eyes tell more than you ever could."

"I am not accustomed to engaging in such savage games," Wendy lied, for of course she and John had entered into several card games that involved betting. She'd just never been any good at it.

The evening had been stiff as soon as the Captain had come to see her just after dinner, which was after Smee had set up the card table in the middle of her room.

When Smee had left her, she'd rushed to her side table, bringing out the butter knife she'd kept hidden there from breakfast. She was practically pulsating at the notion that she'd actually have a chance at escape and she would be able to return home.

Home.

Ignoring the small niggle in her stomach, Wendy had crouched under the card table, and strategically placed the knife in one of the shallow metal folds of the table.

The Captain had then arrived moments later, telling her she looked breathtaking, handing her a bouquet of delightful looking flowers -which she'd accepted stonily- before he had suggested a bit of leisurely card games.

"What are you thinking about?" Hook suddenly asked of her.

"Peter," Wendy replied truthfully. "I was thinking of Peter, and the Lost Boys and even Tinkerbell a little, even though she's frightfully rude to me whenever I see her."

Hook's jaw clenched, and his eyes turned back to the cards in his hand. He did not question Wendy further, and she could only assume that her answer had been wholly inappropriate.

They'd been playing several moments now, and Wendy began to get the hand of it. She wouldn't admit that she was enjoying herself, for the thoughts of that hidden butter knife were slow to surface in her mind. But the thought did come to her, and she was sure to act upon it when she found the moment to be appropriate.

Wendy absently dropped her playing cards, as they all fluttered to the floor. Giving the Captain a small forced smile of embarrassment, which he returned softly, she went under the table to retrieve them.

She saw the large boots of Hook as she kneeled there under the card table; they shone brilliantly in the candlelight around the room. She could almost see her own reflection in them. The thudding in her abdomen grew heavier as she realized she could be caught at any moment.

Now. For the knife she'd hidden. Wendy smiled then, her eyes turning into sly slits. She looked upward, almost grinning as she looked to her secret hiding place-

But...where was the butter knife?

Wendy's face fell, and she was about to look again, search around when she felt a strong hand grasping her by the collar of her dress, dragging her out from under the card table.

She gave a frightened squeal as she was dragged forward, and looked up into the face of Hook, his eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, and his lips curved into a furious sneer.

He had her kneeling before him, his hook dangerously balancing on the side of her throat. It was so cold and sharp, and made a strange, unearthly metallic sound as it lightly dragged against her flesh, leaving her unharmed, but more than a little frightened.

"Searching for something in particular, my dear?" He asked coolly, almost smirking. She saw the confidence and knowing smugness reflected in his eyes then.

"No sir," Wendy replied quickly, trying to look as innocent as possible. "I just couldn't find some of my cards in this dim light."

"Are you sure that is the only reason?" Hook asked edgily, his eyes burning into her own as he went on. "You're quite certain it wasn't a butter knife you were after?"

Wendy paled then, but said nothing. Hook knew though, for he knew much. He was a pirate, and undoubtedly had the room cleaned and searched daily. How stupid she had been to think that she could out fool the pirate king.

"Tsk tsk, you are such a nuisance at times Wendy," He went on lazily, pulling her closer to him. "But intellectual company such as yourself is quite a trial to find, and you are such a quick learner."

Wendy noticed the way his grin widened when he was correct, and how it attained that sinister, sneaky quality when he was preparing something awful. It was in that look that Wendy felt her stomach dropping, as she fervently wished she hadn't attempted escape at all.

"Perhaps though..." Hook trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes still trained on her own until they slid to her trembling body, "an intellectual nuisance such as yourself could make herself useful in other matters, those that require special attention and a quick learner?"

Wendy hadn't the faintest to what the Captain was alluding to, but she did notice how his eyes had taken on a softer, dreamier look as he spoke. Then she felt as he brought her forward, moving her dark hair from her face and giving her that smile that had her uneasy.

Without warning, he pulled her kneeling form between his legs, and tightened them around her, showcasing that escape for her was a non-issue. It was then though, as he gazed down at her through hooded eyes, Wendy realized what Hook had intended all along.

"Oh no," she growled in fright as she began squirming roughly, causing Hook's smirk to disappear completely. "Please, no!"

"Calm yourself child," Hook warned, placing the tip of his claw at her temple. She stilled herself, trying not to scream or move about. "Whatever I propose surely cannot be worse than death."

Wendy would have disagreed completely with Hook on that count. Death was starting to appeal more and more with every day that went by. She was starting to lose her breath now, for his vice like grip around her waist was beginning to cut off airflow.

But she did not speak, she did not move, only her eyes widened as his face drew nearer to her own. Her lips trembled as his face grew close, his eyes locking and unwaveringly upon her own.

"You won't make me do it," Wendy suddenly promised furiously, still squirming in his tight grip. "You have no right."

"Don't you see, you stupid little girl?" Hook laughed cruelly in her face. "You belong to me now. You are my sole property. I found you, I brought you aboard my ship, and you are mine. Every part of you. Where is your precious Pan now?"

"I belong to no one!" Wendy whispered furiously, trying to quell the angry shakes that had begun all over her body. "Least of all, a monster like you."

"A monster." Hook said with a short nod. Moments of silence passed until he slightly raised his mutilated arm with its proud claw fiercely jutting out at the end of it. "Of course, only a true monster would have a hook like this, wouldn't they?"

"Not because of your hook!" Wendy said angrily, unable to understand why he was being so obtuse. She continued to struggle, finding herself growing weak with the minimal oxygen she was receiving. It was suddenly so very silent in the cabin, and all Wendy could hear was her own ragged breathing as they looked to one another.

"Not my hook," the captain slowly, as if he didn't fully understand, his voice so low and quiet. He felt his gaze scanning the girl's face, looking for any trace of falsehood.

"I couldn't care less about the hook," Wendy continued, her voice growing somber. "It's the fact that you are a cold blooded killer with absolutely no conscience."

Hook said and did nothing for several moments, and instead simply continued to gaze at Wendy's ashen face. He'd known all along she'd had something planned for him for he'd felt the butter knife under his skilled fingertips the moment they'd sat down to play.

And now here she was, not any closer to trusting him, and he felt his anger simmering into melancholy despair, carefully hidden under a veneer of discontent.

"How wrong you are, Miss Darling."

Suddenly he pulled his face back, releasing the prior grip he had around her waist and nudged her back rudely with one boot. She fell onto her elbows, gasping in pain and relief. She looked up to him with wide eyes, her heart hammering so painfully in her chest.

"Here," Hook growled, tossing the butter knife onto the ground next to her. It clattered noisily in the room as Hook continued. "Finish me off then. Kill me. Murder me. See if you're any happier after you've slit my throat."

Wendy could only gape up at him, finding it even harder to breathe now that she was freed from his clutches. His dark boots were inches from her face and she feared she would be on the receiving end of it shortly.

In minor defiance Wendy grasped the butter knife in one shaking hand, kneeling before Hook shakily, feeling too weak to even raise the knife. She felt desperate tears flooding her eyes and she choked them back poorly.

"Well go on!" Hook raged loudly, grasping Wendy's unwilling wrist and dragging her to a standing position before him as she struggled weakly. "Get it over with!"

"Let me go," Wendy begged as she squirmed, not surprised that he didn't relent even a little in his biting grasp. She regretted it all, everything she had planned, and wished for nothing more than to be left alone. This was all too much, all too frighteningly grown up. She could not kill James Hook.

"Here," Hook responded coolly, his hand now on the wrist that shakily held her knife. In a violent jerking motion he had dragged the jagged edge of the weapon to his throat, pressing it lightly there. Wendy's face was paled in fright, and her wide eyes were focused upon the knife at Hook's throat.

"Tell me one thing first," Hook growled angrily, feeling Wendy's shaky form against his own. "Before you plunge that sharp steel into my neck, tell me why you wish to kill me. Tell me. Now."

"I-I wish to go home," was Wendy's frightened response.

"Foolish twit," Hook whispered angrily, his face dragging closer to her own, until she could detect the scent of dark chocolate upon his breath, and feel one of his silken curls upon her cheek.

"Murdering me will not change a thing," Hook growled huskily into her ear. "Killing, and flying and having silly adventures will not stop any of it. The sooner you kill me, the sooner you will return home. Home to your parents who do not respect your decisions, home to your life of fiancés and broken dreams. Home to a life that will be nothing but emptiness. I have offered and given you it all-"

"With my freedom as the price," Wendy choked out, finally finding her voice. She heard Hook sigh softly, and was filled with such confusion at his words.

"You are my prisoner," Hook finally uttered, as if trying convince himself of the fact. "But..."

At this Hook's voice trailed off, and Wendy was left with that waiting, searching feel within her, desperately needing to know what he had been about to say next.

"I may be a monster, Wendy, but do not fool yourself into thinking that I haven't a conscience," Hook said darkly. "If I hadn't one, you would not be alive at this moment."

"If you had a conscience you would release me," Wendy whispered shakily, furious at the weakness in her tone. Hook's hand was still around her wrist, pressing the knife to his own neck calmly.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then kill me," Hook replied flatly, his hand removing itself from her wrist quickly. "I shall make no attempt to stop you. The ship is practically deserted tonight, since my men are off engaging in some rather lurid activities. Kill me. Have your precious freedom. But as in any gentleman's game, I shall only give you until the count of three."

Wendy's trembling hand still held the knife to Hook's throat, her eyes completely focused upon it. Its flinty blade glinted at her, almost urging the kill.

"One."

Wendy was startled at the sound of Hook's loud voice, so low and rumbling that she gasped, her hand jerking at the sound. She felt her stomach churning but found that her knife had not pierced his skin, and she found that she was weak from relief at the fact.

"Two."

This was it. This was her last chance. It was now or it was never. Freedom. Home. Fiancés. Brothers. Parents. Responsibility. Growing up. Growing up.

"Three."

Wendy dropped the knife at the last count, her entire form feeling weak. She felt the blood draining from her body, and could only look dazedly into the face of her captor.

"Get out of my sight." Hook said disgustedly throwing up his right arm and turning over the card table with furious ease. Cards scattered everywhere, and he stood, marching out the door and slamming it behind him.

The mixture of sound and threat and past experience had Wendy's heart racing, and she stood quickly, heading for the far side of the room, and onto her bed. There she curled into a small ball, trying to stop the tears of defeat and fear from falling.

Her eyes slammed shut, and she could hear the sound of Hook pacing back and forth across the room. Would he strike her? Would he bellow at her? She trembled in fright at the possibilities.

She didn't know how long had passed until the footsteps had ceased. Wendy waited for the slam and click of the door that never came. She opened her eyes slowly, turning to her right to view the empty room.

Suddenly he was there, standing at the side of her bed as Wendy suppressed a deep gasp.

"Wendy-" he started, looking down at her darkly. He found himself shocked as she sat up suddenly, her eyes ablaze with furious intensity.

"You are a horrible person!" Wendy cried through her tears, furiously. "I've done nothing wrong to you. All I wanted was to come back to the Neverland for some simple, childhood adventures. You stole me away from all of that, you forced me to live here with you, and through it all you couldn't even attempt to be civil!"

"Wendy," Hook started again, resting on the edge of her spacious bed as he finally found the courage to look at her. "You have to understand that things are difficult for me-"

"You've made it so!" Wendy interrupted, "you've made it unbearable for both of us. If you hadn't kept me here, your shipmates would never have thought less of you, and I could have gone home. Instead you've locked me up here and-"

"Be silent a moment, girl!" Hook hissed, his eyes narrowing. His eyes slipped shut a moment, as if he were attempting to collect a large amount of cluttered thoughts within his mind. Wendy watched the tense features of the Captain slowly relax, before his light blue eyes were open and focused once more.

"Why did you come back?"

Wendy looked up to the man, confused. "Pardon?"

"Why did you return, to the Neverland?"

"You're trying to fool me," Wendy said swiftly, not one to be deceived. "Trying to bait me into another one of your games. Well, I won't have it. You have gone too far, Captain Hook."

"I am not attempting to deceive you, my dear," Hook promised gently. "You have my word. On my honor as a pirate. I am simply curious."

Wendy said nothing more as she looked into the pale face of Hook. She searched for any sign of falsehood, or sick bemusement, and saw neither. All that remained was the almost unnerving tranquility and cold calculation of any sea captain.

"You wish to know why I returned?" Wendy almost scoffed, "I have told you countless times! I did not wish to grow up."

"There is nothing more to it?" Hook challenged. "No second part to this?"

"I haven't the faintest as to what you wish me to answer," Wendy countered, feeling backed into some invisible corner at Hook's words. "You seem intent on making my motives out to be fraudulent."

"You have me all wrong," Hook replied with ease. "I simply believe there to be another lure that brought you back to this cursed place."

Wendy could not for the life of her decide what the captain was going on about. And if she hadn't looked into his face she would have remained puzzled. But as Hook looked angrily out the cabin window of her room, into the cheeriness of the evening, Wendy saw it.

The first flicker of jealousy.

It was very subtle. Wendy could see it however, licking at the edges of the Captain's eyes. Emerald green and fiercely sharp looking. Wendy had often heard her mother comment on 'the little green monster' that seemed to creep into people when jealous. The kindest sweetest people could be afflicted! Wendy had simply put it together that this little green monster simply took a person over, starting with the eyes.

"Was it Pan?" Hook almost growled suddenly, his eyes boring into her own. Wendy saw the jagged rim of green around his eyes darkening, threatening to take away that lovely shade of blue altogether. He drew nearer to her, the bed creaking slightly under his weight.

"If I were to answer that Peter was indeed the reason I returned, would this anger you?" Wendy asked softly of him, needing to hear his answer. Almost a challenge.

"So, it was Pan?" Hook replied almost triumphantly, his head shaking slightly. "I knew as much. There are some things that girls never do tire of, and that is of romance. And first romances are the most potent of all."

"I'm afraid you are incorrect," Wendy replied as dignified as possible under the circumstances. "Peter was not the reason I returned. I returned of my own desire to leave the grown up world behind me. To return somewhere that I never really left completely. To a place where there were those who loved me for what I was, and not what I was about to become."

Suddenly, hot tears were slipping down Wendy's cheeks, and she couldn't stop them if she tried. They had come without warning, and in turn taken her completely over. The element of surprise. Her body was starting to hiccup, and before she could stop herself, she'd buried her face in Hook's chest.

She waited for him to recoil at this sentiment, or growl at her, push her off and mock her. But he did not. Moments went by, several in fact, with Wendy sobbing, until suddenly a soft and tentative hand made its way onto Wendy's shaking back.

It stayed there a moment, before journeying downward and upward in a soft rubbing motion that reminded Wendy of her mother's caress when she'd been ill with a fever. It was strange to think of Hook being kind to anyone. Captain Hook, feared captain and man of all of Neverland, was sitting on his bed with a young victim in his arms, and all he did was comfort her!

"I wish to have you all to myself," Hook suddenly whispered softly against her forehead. "Body, heart and soul. I do not wish to share, especially with the likes of Pan."

Wendy felt all her sudden sentiment towards the Captain withering in that moment, feeling as if he saw her as a mere token of triumph. A spoiled boy who did not wish to share his toys. She was not a toy to be discarded after boredom took over. She pushed away from him, her eyes now on the floor. His arms slid away almost like that of a cascading waterfall.

"Leave me," Wendy whispered brokenly, surprised when the Captain did as she asked of him with no question. Almost instantly he had stood, bidding her a gentle goodnight.

When Wendy heard the door shut and lock she allowed herself to slip back onto the soft bed. And now with things even more complicated than ever, Wendy fell into a dreamless and troubled sleep.