Hi, my dear Readers!
I hope, you all enjoyed a nice holiday-time – or those, who had to work, could least have a nice week. Thanks for the feedback, and because I know that you're curious what will happen now with Dalton arriving at the docks, I release you now to London.
Have fun,
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 57 – Conflict and Domesticity
Dalton Ashford was, quite bluntly, beside himself. Shalford had somehow learned of the boy's whereabouts, and removed him from the orphanage, then Wendy's sweet, demure little mother managed to direct that oversized motorcar with breakneck speed through heavy traffic and down the smallest streets instead of doing the decent thing: Stopping! Then that – that annoying presumptuous scribbler placed himself in his way twice, once in his car and now this niggling quill-driver blocked his way to the ship, physically holding him by the arm! Outrageous! "Release me!" Dalton hissed, tugging himself from the reporter's grip. "How dare you touch me!"
"My hands and my conscience are clean, Milord; how about yours?" Kempton replied steadily. Dalton was shocked by the insinuation.
The dockworkers and the sailors were beginning to gather around, wondering why the cars had bolted onto the dock. Others were curious about the captain and the strange boy. They were ignored by the two men staring at each other, then the viscount growled, "Let me pass, or you'll regret it."
"Be grateful for my interference," Daniel said sharply. "Are you blind? The entire crew is ready to protect their captain and the boy. You wouldn't stand a chance."
Ashford gripped Kempton's wrist and pulled his hand away, replying contemptuously, "So, you have aligned yourself with these scoundrels and the dregs? Well, scum to scum." There were angry mutters around. The working class had learned more about their own rights, and were far more socially confident than in earlier times, especially when the upper class sneered at them.
"You should consider your choice of words, young man!" a deep voice behind Dalton reproved him, speaking cultivated English, but Ashford ignored the older man wearing the clothes of a merchant captain.
Lowering his voice the viscount continued, "You will not hinder my mission, but you will pay for coming against me. I'll make certain you're fired from The Times!"
"You'll do no such thing!" a girl's voice rang out. "You have done quite enough!"
Looking around, Dalton saw Victoria approaching. Her eyes flashed fire as she planted herself in front of her cousin, then slapped him. Hard. There were "oohs" from the group around them. "How dare you to keep my friend against her will in the manor!" Slap! "How dare you keep her drugged and lie to her parents!" Slap! "How dare you confine her to a so-called 'guestroom'!" He caught her wrist before the next blow.
"Victoria…!" Dalton began, desperate to stop her. These things must not get out to the public! But his cousin wasn't stopping, but growing louder.
"Nothing you do will change her mind, do you hear me, Dalton Ashford?" Yanking her arm from his grip, she continued: "She doesn't want you! She loves another man, one who truly returns her feelings - without the ulterior motives as you seem to have. Stay away from Wendy Darling, Captain Andrews and the boy, or it will be you who swims in regret."
Dalton roughly took Victoria's shoulders. "Will you just be quiet and…" He was interrupted by that hand around his wrist again.
"Let her go, Viscount – now!" Daniel ordered with surprising authority. "Is this the way you treat the women in your family?"
Ashford released Vicky, turning again to Daniel. "Stay out of it, scrawler, this is family-business and you've nothing –"
"He certainly displays more honor than you, Viscount!" the bass interrupted this time with more force. Ashford turned his head and glared at the merchant captain.
"When I want your advice, old man, I'll let you know!"
"Oh hoity-toity, are we?" one of the dock workers mocked.
"You think a minor title exempts you from remedial advice?" This was a man speaking from many years' experiences dealing with natural, political and economic elements every day. "You should listen, boy, you'd have none of your fine clothes nor fancy cars nor a business to run without the men you see around you, bringing the goods onto this island. And you wouldn't have your fine meals at all hours without the farmers, the butchers, the bakers and your own cook. So don't speak lightly about those who work harder than you. And unhand the young lady – a family member, no less. And one more thing: If you really have kept a girl in your manor against her will, you can be glad that I'm not her father, for you would receive a fitting response: With my fist!"
Ashford turned to face the merchant captain with Anders, Wickham and Alister. A mistake. In the blink of an eye, four more uniformed men were around the captain: His officers. And a few of the mariners and dockworkers were approaching, too, with growing irritation.
"Didn't you hear what I told you?" Dalton asked with disdain, straightening.
"And what accusations have you not understood?" Kempton raised his voice again. "Your actions betray your faulty character, Milord. You have no scruples."
"When I need a lesson in morals, Kempton, I let you know!" Dalton snarled.
"I won't hold my breath. Men like you don't know what morals are," Daniel replied with infuriating calmness. "You kidnapped the captain's son to force Captain Andrews to comply," Kempton added loudly. The faces surrounding them grew grimmer, murmurs grew louder. "It didn't matter that the boy was abused because of your attempt to take revenge on your rival! Using a child like that – you're a coward, nothing more, Milord!" Daniel spat the last word like a curse.
Grumbling threats began to fill the air around Ashford and his companions. "What did y' do to the lad the captain is holding? You kidnapped that boy?" the merchant captain asked, outraged. "Man, just for that I could throw you into the drink!"
Dalton stared disbelieving at Daniel. "I didn't … That brat isn't …" He lifted a finger towards Kempton. "Stop lying, or I'll …"
Victoria, who understood the tale of Peter being Hook's son, closed the distance to Dalton and hissed, "Listen, Dalton, and listen closely. If you don't leave Wendy, Captain Andrews and his son alone – and also Mr. Kempton! – I call my uncle. Your father! And will I tell him about your very expensive hobby that costs you so much that you don't have. And I'll make certain everyone you deal with learns of your … your distorted passions for which you cannot pay!"
Dalton blanched – how did she know about that? Then his face flushed. "You miserable little …"
The large hand landed on his shoulder, and the deep voice added with unbending authority, "I think, Milord, it's better that y' leave now. Ye've overstayed yer welcome. If ye want to stay healthy, take yer watchdogs and yer motorcars, and scram!"
Ashford wanted to give him a pithy reply, but could see that he and his companions were surrounded by dozens of grim laborers and seamen. They seemed to be ready to give them a proper beating. Throwing a last heated glare at Victoria and Daniel, he said slowly, "This isn't over! Neither for you two nor for 'Captain Andrews'." Then he nodded at the three hunters. "Men, we bow to the greater force. Let's go."
They had to push their way through the crowd and muttered name-calling before they reached their motorcars. Ashford looked once more toward Shalford, still holding Peter. Their eyes met, he saw Wendy standing aside the one-handed cripple, arm about his waist and the boy on the captain's arm. Her mother stood at Shalford's other side, tall and unwavering, a true lady, while around them and on the quay, half of the crew had taken their places weapons ready.
"You won this round, but it isn't over," he whispered. "Beware, Shalford, you, and this little minx and the brat. I WILL win in the end!" Then he climbed into the Austin, where Fulsom had remained, shaking his head and wondering how this would end. "To my townhouse," he said sharply and closed the door with a bang behind him. Time to bring the big guns to this fight …
*** PP ***
James Hook would never say it, but he was relieved that it hadn't come to a direct confrontation with Ashford – at least for now. He didn't want the girls to witness that darker side of his nature which was sometimes necessary. He also didn't want Wendy involved in the inevitable conflict. And of course, he had to take care of Peter. He knew the boy well enough to realize that only his stubbornness was keeping him upright.
"All right, Pan, off to the ship with you." James was about to turn towards the gangway, as he saw the older man in dark blue coat with two rows of golden buttons, four gold stripes at his sleeves and a white and black cap heading towards him and the others. Kempton was busy moving his motorcar out of the way and let the man pass, nodding at him while Victoria gave him a smile. It hadn't slipped Hook's attention that the man had stepped in during the argument between Ashford, his cousin and the reporter, and had taken the young people's side. And after seeing civilian captains on the ships and boats as they traveled the Thames yesterday, he knew that he faced a man of his own rank.
The crowd was dispersing, foremen hollering "back to work!" yet they all continued to discuss the incident with some vehemence. Ashford had managed to agitate the already angry laborers – enough to threaten him and the hunters. Hook hadn't understood much of what was spoken, but the fact that the men of the lower class were ready to show the upper class fop his place was interesting, but also very informative. It told him a lot about the new century.
The older man strode towards Hook and the others. "A good evening t' ye, ladies and gentlemen," he said with his deep voice. The deep crinkles framed his bright eyes while he tipped at his cap in a casual salute. "I'm Chester Ward, Captain of the Seawolf over there." He pointed at the steam ship.
"James Andrews, Captain of the Jolly Roger," Hook introduced himself. "Mrs. Darling and her daughter Wendy, and my bosun, Bryan Smee," he competed the formalities.
"A pleasure," Ward replied, tipping his cap, then looked at the boy on the other captain's arms. He reached out and laid one rough hand on the child's arm. "And you, son, everythin' all right?" he asked softly. Peter glanced at him and he saw the bruises on the boy's face. "Ach, lad, that looks no' good. I'm sorry that ye were hurt. These young aristos think the whole world has t' play by their rules, but that's no longer true." He patted Peter on the shoulder. "Fear not, m'boy. Your father'll takes good care of you." He turned his attention back to Hook, and Peter wondered, Father?
"If ye need something for the boy, let me know. We've a good medical kit aboard and I can help you out."
"Very kind of you," Hook replied, wondering if he should correct this misunderstanding about him being Peter's father, but before he could say something, Mrs. Darling asked, "Might you have some aspirin?" she asked hopefully.
"Aye," Ward nodded and smiled at the boy. "I think ye're gonna to need it, lad."
Nibs stepped forward. "Captain, I can go with Captain Ward and get the aspirin for Peter." He patted Peter in the brotherly way as he had so often done when he was smaller. Peter gave him a brief smile, asking himself – by the mermaid's fishtail – what was aspirin?
"Make it so," Hook nodded at Nibs, also wondering what 'aspirin' was. Clearing his throat, he addressed the other captain again. "I'm sorry to leave you like this, Captain Ward. I'm grateful for your intervention and I hope I can repay it with a good drink, but at the moment I have to take care of Peter."
Ward smiled with understanding. "Of course. And don't feel obligated to buy me a drink. Any decent man would'a done it." He lifted his cap. "Ladies, Captain." Replacing his cap, he added, "C'mon, lad, I'll get you that aspirin," leading Nibs towards the Seawolf.
Hook chuckled to himself. "One thing hasn't changed," he murmured to Wendy, "Seamen stick together."
Peter asked. "Why did that man think I'm your son?" He was remembering his conversation with the professor in Ashford's dungeon, how the old man said the captain had become something like a father to Peter. It seemed to make sense, but to hear that other people thought he was Hook's son confused him.
"That was a white lie Mr. Kempton came up with at the orphanage. It allowed me to demand to see you," James explained. "It was also useful to stir the workers here against Ashford. They could see you were hurt and took our side. Clever move."
Peter looked at the man holding him. "Still, you as my father …"
"Aye, it takes a heluvan imagination," James nodded, yet he wondered why the words sounded hollow.
"Oh, not so much," Wendy teased. Both males looked at her, wearing exactly the same expression, which made Wendy and Mary grin. Mary was remembering how fiercely the captain had protected, then comforted the boy, and how Peter was still huddling close to his former nemesis. Even the pirates around them, John, Slightly and Dark Owl, had to agree.
"We're nothing alike," both said in unison, looking at each other in surprise. Now even the obdurate crewmembers had to laugh. Grimacing, Hook turned towards the gangway, Peter still on his arm. "Mr. Herbs, please lend Mrs. Darling a hand," he ordered with loud voice. "And if you men continue this ridiculous behavior, you will face double shifts!" he added, yet it didn't stop the men from snickering. He groaned inwardly. His reputation …! A few moments later he stepped on the main deck, acknowledged Aunt Millicent, who was still fanning herself, and strode to the companionway towards the bridge; the three Darlings and the remaining two boys at his heels.
"Dark Owl will make some medicine for Little White Eagle!" the brave said from behind Hook.
"Thank you. Mr. Smee, go with our Indian friend and tell Cookson to provide him with everything he needs. And tell who's ever on duty to heat up some water for a bath!" Not waiting for an answer, he entered his cabin and placed Peter on his bed, comforter and covers still thrown back.
Peter sighed in relief and closed his eyes, not even complaining as Hook slipped off his shoes and spread the comforter over him. Now, among friends in safety, he relaxed, exhaustion apparent. He didn't even look up as Tink fussed over him, only flicking her aside when she grew annoying. Aurora met Tink midair and sat on the headboard, while Kailen lit a few candles on the table.
Aunt Millicent watched the tiny creatures for the first time. She'd learned, quite unintentionally, that fairies existed, but watching them flitter about was fascinating. Enchanting even – but her grownup mind didn't let her act on it. So she directed her main focus to the boy on the bed. She had seen him only once – five years ago when he took Wendy and the others the second time to Neverland. They had a brief argument before he and Wendy flew away. At that time Millicent had been deeply afraid for the children, yet a part of her had understood that her niece could do nothing but follow the flying boy back to the mystical island. Now the same boy lay here, bruised, pale, exhausted and clearly in need of help. And not one whit older.
Mary slipped out of her coat and handed it to Hook, then went to the water closet to get a towel and a washcloth. As she returned, Wendy sat on the bed beside Peter and held his hand; the boys stood watch on the other side. Carefully Mary lifted Peter's head and smiled as she softly returned his wary gaze. She placed the towel on the pillow beneath him and gave him the washcloth to cool his bruised face. He sighed again at the touch of the cool material.
"Poor Peter," Wendy whispered, stroking the back of his hand.
The eternal boy grimaced beneath the washcloth. "I've had worse," he mumbled.
Wendy rolled her eyes. "Haven't I heard that before?"
"That's his standard answer for whenever he gets beaten up," Hook noted, pouring some water into a glass for a few sips.
"Another way you're alike," the girl replied wryly. "Beaten, bruised and barely able to stand, but 'you've had worse'." Both immediately glared at her, but she answered with a smile. "You two can glower all you want – you're cast from the same mold."
Both rolled their eyes. But Hook knew Wendy was right. Turning his attention back to Peter, he grumbled. "She has a point, boy: You look awful." To his surprise, Peter didn't even protest. Moving to the bed, he saw the bloodied left sleeve and he sighed. "Right, lad, time to patch you up."
Peter soon wished Hook had skipped the ordeal. As the captain cleaned the cut Lunette had left at inside of the boy's left elbow with iodine, only Peter's pride prevented him from crying out. Hook quickly cleaned it and wrapped the arm in a bandage, but Peter felt sick as he lay back on the soft bed. His left arm throbbed.
Wendy still sat beside him, but he really felt … miserable. Slightly and John remained on the other side of the bed, but couldn't make him more comfortable. In the background, Mary quietly related to Millicent what happened. Even with the low tones, he could tell she was shocked by everything – mostly that her sister-in-law had a motorcar race with the viscount.
Dark Owl entered, accompanied by Nibs, Victoria and Daniel. "Ashford left for good," Daniel told Hook. "I went from the dock entrance up to the Tower Bridge Approach Street and saw his two motorcars driving towards the north and then turning left towards Financial District. I'm fairly sure he won't try anything more today."
"Good to hear," James nodded. "I was an inch away from doing something I would probably have to pay for later."
Kempton nodded, glanced at the bed. "And Peter?"
"Tired, and will surely sleep as soon as he's cleaned up," Hook sighed.
"Cleaned up?" Peter squeaked, having missed the order for warm water. "I don't need it!"
"You sound like Michael," John laughed, remembering the nightly howling from his younger brother.
"Don't you want to wash off the stink of the orphanage?" Hook asked. Wendy had removed the washcloth and he lifted his head, looking defiantly at the captain. Dark Owl took the opportunity and smeared some yellow pulp on Peter's face.
"Ouch!" the boy yelped. "What are you doing?"
"This is cooked corn flour, stirred against the sun's path to cool down. It will heal the bruises and swelling," the brave explained calmly. "Little White Eagle knows this medicine. Panther used it many times after your adventures."
Peter scowled, quieting his objections. The shaman had indeed treated him with it. It really did help in drawing out the sting of injuries. He suddenly realized something else. "Thank you for coming," he whispered. "I know you miss your family, your people, and … your clothes."
The brave smiled with his eyes, an expression that softened his severe features. "Dark Owl can now claim his own adventure. And Three Strengths is with him, so are Little White Eagle's other friends. And Iron Hand is a good chief. He looks out for us all as needed." He cleaned off the homemade salve (leaving a clean spot) and replaced it with more. And at first it stung. "Little White Eagle should remain still, then the pain will subside quickly," the brave said kindly.
"Peter Pan never holds still," James growled and watched how Nibs took out a white pill from a narrow tube. "What's that?" he asked.
"Aspirin," Nibs replied, filling another glass with water.
"What … is aspirin?" James asked.
"A painkiller. You dissolve one or two of them in a glass of water and drink it."
"Is it bitter? Our wise ones make this from the willow bark," Dark Owl contributed.
Hook whistled through his teeth. "Another surprise. That would be most useful," he murmured.
"I don't need medicine," came the expected protest from the bed.
"Yes, you do," Wendy replied firmly. "And it won't taste anything like the medicine I gave you and the boys."
Peter looked up at her. "That was just a pretend!"
"Amazing, Master Pan admits a pretense. I'm shocked, m'boy," Hook taunted, taking the mixture to the bed. The fluid was cloudy, and Peter looked at it suspiciously. James rolled his eyes. "No fear, Mr. Troublemaker, this time there's no poison." He slid his right arm carefully beneath the boy's shoulders and placed the glass at Peter's dry lips. "Just drink and ease your pain."
The clear eyes looked searchingly at the man. "Do you trust this stuff?" he whispered. Touched, he saw Peter trusted him, letting him decide what was good or bad for him.
"Aye, I do," he nodded.
Peter sipped the water, grimaced at the bitterness, then sighed. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he downed the whole glass.
"Yes, and still alive," James smirked. Turning his attention to Wendy's friend and the young man, he said, "I want to thank you for your support this afternoon, Mr. Kempton. Without it the outcome might have been … unsatisfying. My gratitude also goes to you, Lady Ashford. Your and Mr. Kempton's interference out there on the quay not only prevented an escalation, but also meant Peter's safety."
Victoria nodded with a smile, while Daniel replied, "I had to do it – not only to stop them from going after you but also from harassing Lady Ashford. It seems he is not above mistreating his own cousin."
"Don't be so formal, Mr. Kempton, I'm well aware of yours and the young lady's … relationship," Hook smirked, ignoring Millicent's clearing her throat. "How did you stop your cousin, Milady?"
The redhead glanced at Wendy, then lifted her brows. "To quote you, captain, don't be so formal. I don't know Milady nor Lady Ashford. I'm Victoria."
She saw the amusement in his eyes, then he bowed elegantly. "I am honored, Victoria. Please call me James," he replied; aware of Wendy's happy smile. "So, what did you say to him?" He really wanted to know.
"Oh, I just turned the tables on him," Vicky shrugged. "I told him that he has to stay away from you, Wendy and Peter, or I would tell his father about his gambling debts." She saw their reactions and smirked, "Hey, two can play his game!" Then she walked to the bed. Smiling, she looked at the boy with the mush on his cheeks that was turning from yellow to grey. "Hello Peter," she said softly. "I've heard much about you. Finally I get to meet you in person."
The boy licked his lips – the corn flour mixture didn't taste bad – and looked up at the young lady beside him. She was pretty with her red-gold hair, the freckles and the green-grey eyes, but she looked so … grown up. Just like Wendy. "You're Wendy's friend, right?"
"Yes, I'm Victoria. But you can call me Vicky," she replied, bobbing in an informal curtsey.
Peter remembered his manners and struggled to sit up. "Little White Eagle …" Dark Owl began, but Peter stopped him and managed to sit up properly, then he made something like a bow from the waist.
Hook watched the little scene, amused. "You're becoming quite the Prince Charming, m'boy," he snorted and looked at Wendy. "Do you know why he got in such trouble? Or why his new friends took such risks to help him? He started a fight with three older boys in the orphanage to protect a girl."
Peter glared at the man. "You would do it, too. You always say that a real gentleman would - OUCH!" Dark Owl had shoved him back onto the bed and added more mush to his cheeks. "Hold still!" the brave ordered, earning him a scowl.
Wendy swallowed her laugher, remembering James wearing the same expression when she treated him after 'the Battle'. "Which of you is worse?" she sighed. "Someone tries to help you and you act like an offended cat."
"They are quite similar, I agree," Nibs noted thoughtfully.
"Not that again," Peter groaned.
Daniel scratched his chin. "Probably why it popped into my head to call them father and son," he smiled.
James turned to Daniel. "Clever. But no more. Otherwise folks might wonder where our little hero is once he returns to Neverland and no longer with his 'father'."
"No one will care when we're back in Neverland," Peter mumbled. Wendy darted a look at James, but he gave her a tiny shake of his head. Now wasn't the time to tell Peter that he would have to return without Hook.
"I am a touch nervous about the possible outcomes concerning our … orphanage rescue mission," Mary said slowly.
"I, too," Millicent commented. "What if that director finds out who you and the boys are? The police will show up to -"
"He won't call the town guards," Hook interrupted her with a wolflike grin. "Not if he's in his right mind."
"What about the warders?" Nibs said, thinking aloud. Tink said something that made Aurora giggle and Kailen snicker, as well as Slightly and Hook.
He translated for the ladies and girls, as well as for John, "The fairies that confused the adults in the orphanage, putting them to sleep, promised that none will remember Peter nor the way he was removed."
"Never underestimate the fairies of Kensington Gardens," Peter murmured. "They're masters in confusing charms.". The two women and his friends sighed in relief, probably wondering what repercussions that could set in motion.
"Can Little White Eagle turn over? Then Dark Owl could treat his back."
"What? You want me to go naked in front of the ladies?" His voice had taken on a note of panic.
Hook was surprised. Hm. This was new. In earlier times Peter wouldn't have hesitated. It showed that he was indeed maturing – and not just recently. The boy had become aware of his own body since Wendy's first stay in Neverland. Interesting!
Mary chuckled. "No fret, Peter. I'm raising seven boys. Don't you know Wendy and I have seen them all without their clothes?"
Surprisingly, the boy flushed. "That's different," he mumbled, before he looked up at Wendy – Wendy, who looked so awfully … grownup in those clothes. "I can't … well …" Hook very nearly pointed out how much like a young grownup Peter sounded just now, but he held his tongue. The lad was upset enough.
"All right," Mary said softly. "If we can't help any further, and to spare young Master Pan additional embarrassment, I think it's time to return home." She lifted a hand when Wendy and the three boys began to protest. "It's almost dinnertime, and I'm sure your father has not only called by now, but is probably wondering why my 'trip to Aunt Millicent's house' has taken all day."
Wendy wasn't ready to leave her friend's side – nor James'. "But Peter -"
"I'm sure that Captain Hook will take good care of him." She met Peter's eyes and smiled at him. "A bath, something to eat and a night's sleep will work some very normal magic," she said and winked at the boy and the two fairies. A sigh escaped Wendy. This earned her a frown from her aunt – remarkably silent after all she'd learned and seen that afternoon.
Catching Wendy's sorrowful gaze, Hook murmured, "Your mother is right, my girl. We already talked about it. There are some rules even I must obey. I will see you tomorrow."
The girl sighed and nodded, but she didn't like it. Then, "Where is Bumblyn?" she asked looking around. Since Dark Owl had carried the slumbering Hobgoblin away, she hadn't seen a bit of him.
"Still asleep," the young Indian answered. "Brave Feather shouldn't worry, Dark Owl will care for him until she returns." Then he placed the bowl on the nightstand. "When the women have gone, Dark Owl will treat Little White Eagle's other wounds."
Tink had been watching everything with uncharacteristic patience. She knew that the humans only wanted the best for her Peter, but seeing his face, she had a good idea how his butt looked. And she knew that something more was needed than the Indian medicine. Fairy magic was needed, or Peter would be sore for a week or more. She flew to Nibs and Slightly and spoke to them softly so as not to disturb her boy, whose breathing grew more even now.
The two listened, then nodded. "Um, all right," Slightly murmured. "That certainly would help. But you'll have to go to Kensington Gardens to get it, you know, and at this time of the evening the people are all still about. It's still light out."
"Wait," Nibs interrupted. "She can come with us. From Bloomsbury it's only a stone's throw to Kensington Gardens."
Tink nodded at him happily, then all three turned to Mrs. Darling. "Can we take Tinker Bell with us? She wants to get a special medicine from Queen Mab, who lives in Kensington Gardens," Slightly explained. "Her ointment will heal Peter's bruises and wounds in a trice."
"I'd like that," Peter slurred, now nearly asleep.
Mary smiled at the fairy. "Of course." She stopped as Aurora joined her friend, pointed at herself and jingled something. A moment later Kailen was beside her, too. "Coming with you, I do. Three pairs of hands are better than two – and you'll be safer with me." He smiled at his wife and then at Tink.
Millicent gulped – those … creatures … would be riding with them? – but Mary nodded. "Of course. Just hide in the boys' jackets." She glanced at Victoria. "What about you, my dear? Shall I take you to your aunt and uncle?"
The young lady's cheeks immediately pinked. "Well, there's a problem," she murmured sheepishly. "I … I told my aunt and uncle that I'd be visiting the manor."
"You lied?" Millicent asked, stunned.
"Well … it was a white lie. After I realized that Wendy's stories were true and I learned from the boys what my cousin did, I knew I had to so something. And telling Aunt Cathy that I'm at the manor gave me enough time to … to do what was necessary. But if I go back this evening, I'll have to explain everything, and I don't think they would fathom it. So -"
"So it would be better if as few people as possible knew the truth," Hook nodded. "You can't go home before tomorrow."
"Then you'll come with us," Mary decided. "The guest room will be occupied by my sister-in-law, but you and Wendy can share her room," she added, glancing at her daughter.
Wendy's face lit up. "Perfect!" they said in unison.
"Victoria's bag is in my motorcar," Daniel said, helping Victoria into her coat. "I'll put it in yours, Mrs. Darling."
"Thank you," Mary nodded. She and Millicent put on their coats, then she prompted, "Wendy, coming?"
Wendy was looking at Peter, falling asleep like a weary toddler. Pressing a finger to her lips, she signaled the others to be quiet, and rose carefully. Peter didn't move.
Hook stood next to her, watching the boy. He smiled, seeing what Wendy had seen. "I'll let him sleep until his bath is ready, and then be sure he gets something to eat," he whispered, offering Wendy his left hand.
Taking it, the girl squeezed his fingers gently, earning her a smile and a quick kiss on her temple. Wendy threw her arms around James, hugging him. While her aunt loudly cleared her throat (again,) Vicky grinned. Mary watched them thoughtfully. If there was one man who might make Wendy happy, then it could be this man.
Asking Dark Owl to remain with Peter, he accompanied his beloved (now - unofficially - betrothed) and the others to the parked motorcars, making sure they all safely reached the vehicles. He wasn't sure if Ashford had truly retreated and was not lurking somewhere close by, waiting for a chance to act again. He also felt a definite responsibility toward the mother of the girl who held his heart. He had grown to like Mary Darling in this one hectic day. He knew her better now.
While Aunt Millicent deposited herself on the back bench, and Wendy and Victoria climbed onto the second bench, Hook gave Mrs. Darling a kiss on her hand and bid them all farewell. The boys climbed into the motorcar, too, and Kempton delivered Victoria's bag, stowing it in an empty spot on the Adler. Then Hook and Kempton quickly arranged for Daniel to come to the ship in the late morning so that he could pick up the captain to do some needed shopping. Afterwards the young reporter returned to his own vehicle.
Watching the motorcars putter off in their characteristic noise and stink, Hook caught one last look from Wendy, who looked out of the window and threw him a kiss. He smiled broadly, unconsciously. Ignoring those around him watching, he returned to his ship.
Later, as Hook had made himself comfortable, removing his coat and boots, it knocked softly at his door and a few of the crew entered, carrying pots and buckets with hot and cold water. Soon the bath was ready, but Peter still slept an uneasy sleep. No surprise the boy was suffering nightmares. Smee – also bathed and changed – set up two sets of dishes for his captain and Peter on the table. Meanwhile, James bent over the boy, shaking him gently.
The youth opened his eyes, startled, blinking several times – and immediately sat up. Then "Ouch!" This was followed by a low moan. "I thought that medicine would stop the hurt," he complained.
"Maybe another dose?" Hook sighed, laying a warm hand on Peter's shoulder. "Feeling better?" he asked. As Peter shook his head, Hook added, "There's a warm bath here for you. It will help. Can you walk?"
Peter frowned – the prospect of rising and walking was daunting – but he nodded, and slid off the bed. A tiny gasp escaped him while he shivered. Instantly Hook steadied him. "They really beat you badly, didn't they?" The child moaned.
"Not gonna be sitting long, that's for sure." He rubbed his head to fight the dizziness. He started to topple but Hook swept him up and carried him to the tub, ignoring the mild protest that he could walk on his own.
"Too bad," the buccaneer mocked softly, standing him beside the tub and helping him out of the grey uniform.
Peter blushed from his shoulders to the tips of his ears when he realized that he stood naked before his former nemesis, but then he heard the man gasp and saw his shocked gaze fixed on his back. "God's blood!" Hook breathed out, using a religious phrase for the first time in many years, while the man / pirate winced in compassion.
Dark bruises covered him, purple, red across the boy's back from knees to hips. His ribs were visible. Feeling overwhelmed with an unfamiliar pity, James closed his eyes, straightening, and laid his right arm around the youth and tousled the mess of curls with his hand. "Brimstone and gall, boy, what did they do to you!" he murmured and didn't even get nervous when Peter leaned on him.
Peter was tired of being alone, of fearing to grow-up, of being punished and bullied. And feeling the man's long arms wrapped securely around him, he felt safe. Really safe! Was this what that professor meant when he told him about fathers? If so, then the old scholar had been right. There were times even the strongest child needed someone to be there.
Hook gave the minikin time to recover, then lifted him to place him into the warm water; getting wet in the process. "Let yourself float. It won't hurt so much then," he murmured, and Peter obeyed, closed his eyes in contentment. Hook's eyes didn't leave the young body in the water. How vulnerable he was now! Once again, James was struck by how much of a child this flying troublemaker was.
"Stay here, I'll come back to help you out when the water cools down," he instructed. "And try to wash your hair."
Peter only nodded, too tired and too relaxed to answer; the warm water was more than heavenly. Watching him a moment longer, Hook concluded that he couldn't leave. Peter might even fall asleep and drown. Sighing, he rolled up his sleeves, bent over the tub, picked up the soap and said, "Keep your eyes closed, I'll wash your hair." And he couldn't help the feeling of parental warmth filling him when Peter nodded and even smiled …
TBC…
Aww, Hook in father-modus once again. And, believe me, he will remain in that 'modus' for some time longer, after all our Peter is really in need for some comfort, but he also needs advises for the many confusion emotions which have bottled up in him and will bloom even more.
In the next chapter, you learn what happens at the orphanage after Hook and the other took Peter away, Wendy is re-united with her brothers, Peter and Hook have another sweet father-son-moment and Mr. Darling comes home only to learn something scandalously that forces him to act.
I hope, you liked the new chapter that was, admittingly, something like an interlude, yet I think there were a few sweet scenes. Like always I hope for reviews.
Have a nice rest of the weekend and a good start into the next week,
Love
Yours Lyhwn / Starflight