Disclaimer: Owning anything having to do with J.M. Barrie and Disney would mean truckloads of paperwork that I'm just too lazy to do. Oh yeah, and there's that thing with the money, which I don't have.
"See something you like?" he asked with a smirk.
She'd been so occupied with the wound that she hadn't realized she was looking at a man's bare chest. She blushed as she found that she did indeed see something she liked. He was lean, a little too lean though, with muscle one would associate with running a pirate ship. Scars crisscrossed over his chest, stomach, and arms. "You haven't been eating," she stated, hoping to cover the fact that she'd been staring.
"It's no concern of yours."
He was silent on the matter, however Wendy promised herself that she'd get him to eat something later. "How do you undo this thing?" she asked as she examined the jumble of leather and metal. She decided that this 'contraption', as Hook called it, was new. The leather was stiff and the metal showed no wear. No wonder it was so uncomfortable; there was no room to move around it in.
He reached over and with a few quick movements of his wrist and deft fingers it fell away into his lap. He didn't remove the hook from his arm, however.
"Thank you. That looks like it hurts quite a bit. Let me wash it before I bandage it and you'll be good as new. Where do you keep your brandy?" Hook pointed and she fetched a random bottle. She knew next to nothing of alcohol besides its aftereffects and proprieties as an antiseptic. Having no other cloths, she opted for the next best thing. Reaching for the shirt on the floor, she ripped it into strips using the tears in it.
"I rather liked that shirt," he protested.
"You've got enough to replace it, you know."
Brandy was poured onto one of the largest strips and hesitantly applied to his skin. Wendy dabbed it over the wound until she was sure she'd gone over it completely. "That will keep it clean until you can bathe," she told him as she wrapped the clean white strips around his chest. Then she got him a clean shirt.
"Do you need help getting that on?"
A frown appeared on his face. "Just turn around."
She did so, wondering if she'd somehow insulted him.
"I'm decent," he spoke, sarcastically, after a moment.
"So you are," she replied as she turned around once more. The hook and the contraption were on the bed next to him. He seemed comfortable enough to have his missing hand covered by the sleeve of the shirt. Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a soft knock on the cabin door. A bearded head hesitantly came into view.
"Ah, Smee, come in. Miss Darling tells me you've got my crew in order."
"Hm, aye Cap'n. Glad ye be feelin' better. I wanted to know if ye an' Miss Darlin' wanted anythin' to eat before I have some o' the men bring in a bath."
"Nothing for-"
"Yes, please, Mr. Smee. For the Captain and I."
Attempting to hide a grin behind a violent fit of coughing, the first mate ducked out of the room.
"What-?" Hook was interrupted once more.
"Why haven't you been eating?"
"I don't appreciate being interrupted," he growled.
"Why haven't you-?"
"We've gone over this, Miss Darling."
She wasn't giving up. "Why-?"
"It's none of your damned business!" he shouted, eyes flashing red.
They glared at one another for a long moment before his still recovering body's tense muscles relaxed and he lent back against his pillows in exhaustion. His eyes closed and his breathing gradually returned to normal after his outburst. If he didn't eat something soon, he'd have no energy to fight off his sickness.
Smee came and went, leaving the two to sit in silence, staring at the tray that sat on the edge of the bed as if it were the most remarkable thing they'd ever seen. "Please, just eat. It's not healthy for you to starve yourself."
"I'm not starving myself."
"The what is it exactly you are doing?"
"I..."
When he didn't continue, she pressed the issue. "You..?"
He glared. "Just hand me the damned fork!"
Wendy smiled as she served herself and the captain. They ate in silence, with nothing to listen to beside their cutlery and the rocking of the ship. She kept an eye on him as they ate. He was very neat even with only one hand to eat with. Instead of the shoveling motion she expected from a pirate, he ate with grace. He eats like a gentleman, she realized.
"What were you before you took to piracy?"
He glance up at her, but continued to eat. "I don't remember," he said before putting a bit of bread into his mouth.
"Do you remember anything of your life before Neverland?"
He considered, "Nothing." The way he kept his eyes averted as he said it led her to believe that he wasn't telling the whole truth. Wendy let it go, however. Let him keep his secrets.
Smee soon came in and though the captain insisted she go before him, she somehow managed to convince him that it was better for his wounds to be cleaned as soon as possible. So Wendy Darling came to be on deck of the Jolly Roger. There was a lovely breeze that played with the hem of her nightdress and whipped her hair about her face. The sun kissed her pale London skin.
A few of the crew whispered and pointed to her, but she paid them no mind. As much as Hook disliked her, he still wouldn't let her be harmed. Least of all by his own crew. As she looked out over the island, she thought she might have spotted something considerably larger than a bird fly out and over the trees. Now that Hook wasn't in immediate danger, she felt that she could now spare Peter a few thoughts.
She wondered if he'd acquired any new Lost Boys since she'd been away. The Boys at home were all attending school with John and Micheal. They would be coming home soon for summer vacation. Even if Peter had no Lost Boys to date, she knew he could keep himself busy. There were always the mermaids, Natives, and the faeries for him to play with.
There was a tapping on her shoulder and she turned around to see Mr. Smee. Captain Hook was dressed in a pair of tan breeches and an open shirt, leaning against the mizzenmast. His hair was damp and by the way he kept his arms folded loosely over his chest, Wendy couldn't tell if he wore his hook.
She returned her attention to the older man in front of her. "Yes, Mr. Smee?"
"The cap'n's finished, miss. Yer ta use his quarters ta bathe an' change."
"Thank you, Mr. Smee. I'll do just that."
She glanced at the captain before she went to his quarters, hoping to catch his attention to thank him for the use of his rooms, but he'd moved to observe a young pirate as he worked. Curiously, he looked to be giving advice on the young man's work rather than gutting him. But that would be silly, she thought, if he killed all of his crew over little things, he'd have none left over. Shaking her head in wonder, she left to clean herself.
It seemed they had managed to find a mismatched skirt and a soft blue blouse for her to wear instead of her nightdress. There was also a corset, which she struggled to fasten herself. In the end, she pulled the blouse over her head and peeked out the door.
She caught the eye of a passing pirate, whom she waved over to her.
"Wot ye want?" Wendy couldn't help but notice that a few of his teeth were black from rot.
"Can you tell Captain Hook that I need him?"
"An' who might ye be?" He pronounced the last word "beh".
"Miss Darling."
He scuttled off and she shut the door. It was reopened once more a moment later. "Yes?" he asked, giving her a curious look.
"There's not another woman on board, is there?" She didn't dare get her hopes up.
His brows furrowed, "Unfortunately, no."
"I..."
"You..?"
It didn't escape Wendy that they'd gone through something similar to this before, only now it was reversed. "I need help fastening my corset."
"And?" he asked, amused.
She breathed deep, in and out, a few times before answering. "Could you please help me?"
Wendy wondered whether it was her imagination that he looked slightly uncomfortable. "You could always just go without it," was his suggestion.
"I think not. Are you going to assist me or do I need to ask Mr. Smee?" Why hadn't she asked the kind Irishman in the first place?
"What must I do?"
She sighed in relief. "Thank you. Please turn around for a moment."
He did so and she removed her blouse and fixed the corset into place. "It's all right now. If you could fasten it—tightly, remember."
She heard his boots cross the floor to her. It was an effort not to shudder at his warm hand so close to her bare skin. What would her dear aunt have to say about this, she wondered. Such scandal! She gasped as he pulled the garment tightly.
"Did I hurt you?" his voice was deep in her ear.
"No, you're only crushing my ribs into my lungs," she answered, voice laced with sarcasm.
He grumbled something about women torturing themselves and continued with her corset.
"How are you doing that with only one hand?" she asked suddenly.
She felt his body stiffen behind her. "I'm not completely incapable," he growled as he pulled the corset tighter. She gasped in surprise and pain. She could barely breath as it was!
"I'm sorry," she amended, "I was only curious."
Would she ever stop insulting him unintentionally? He seemed to forgive her as he became infinitely more gentle at her words. A moment later and he was done. She felt his arms fall away from her and his presence retreated a few feet.
"I'm turned around. You may safely continue dressing now."
She wasn't going to readily trust the words of a pirate, so she glanced over her shoulders. He spoke the truth. Her blouse was retrieved from the floor and pulled on once more. "Thank you very much, Captain."
He turned to acknowledge her with a nod before leaving to return to the deck.