Chapter 8 - Coming Clean

Wendy woke up snugly wrapped in several blankets and tucked safely between the soft back of a sofa and a variety of plush pillows. Her head throbbed all over, but especially on the left side. She curled her fingers around the embroidered hem of the top blanket and pulled it over her head as she grew aggravated with the sunlight streaming in through a small window above her. It didn't take long for her to recall the previous night, and she was in no hurry to deal with the mess in which she had landed. Her wound was stitched and bandaged, but was her life in any less danger than it had been when she was bleeding out?

The dull ache in her throat reminded her that she had spent a good part of the night sobbing in and out of sleep, but at least her eyes were now dry of tears. She wondered what time it was, but was too afraid to peek outside the blankets, and she knew better than to expect a clock anywhere on this ship. Or had cutting himself out of the belly of his stalker cured Hook of that fear?

Before Wendy could wonder longer about time, the cold reality of her situation jumped to the forefront of her mind as, in one sweeping motion, the blankets were ripped from her grip and thrown to the floor. A gleaming hook shone unapologetically in the light streaming through the window. "Rise and shine, shall we?" said a smooth, musical voice.

Wendy would have gasped if she could find her breath, but her chest felt frozen and her eyes overstimulated by the sudden brightness. The physical discomforts passed quickly when she realized how exposed she was and grabbed the nearest pillow to cover her legs and glare at the captain. "How dare you?" she said, finding her voice through the anger welling up inside her. Hook only rolled his eyes and tossed the blankets aside; he held something in his left hand, but Wendy couldn't see what it was. He smiled down at her while Smee, appearing out of nowhere, leaned in to check her wound. As much as she was angry, she could recognize the importance of his exam, and let it go on, though she detested the smug look on the captain's face as he watched her watching him. His hair was clean and looked as soft as the green velvet jacket he wore. She was suddenly aware of how greasy her own hair felt as it clung to her forehead and neck. That he somehow managed to look neat and fresh at a moment when she felt sick, dirty, and tired made her even angrier.

"Now, now, Miss Darling," Hook said. "There is no need for such a displeased expression on your lovely face. Have we not taken good care of you?"

"And I appreciate it, captain, but do not think that your kindness will blind me to any of your more base motivations," Wendy said, tugging the pillows closer around her legs.

Hook laughed and smiled wickedly as he said, "Really, my dear, have you become so simple in your thoughts that you believe me that uncouth?" He looked at Smee, who chuckled, then returned his gaze to Wendy. "I've even brought you a better cover up than my pillows." He threw what he'd been holding in his left hand to lay in front of her. "I'm afraid we aren't accustomed to having ladies on board, so you'll have to make do with some of my own leggings and shirts until other arrangements can be made. Smee has been kind enough to hastily alter them according to your smaller frame as he could guess at it. Do thank him."

"Thank you, Mister Smee," she said, refusing to look away from the captain. Smee nodded politely, but Wendy didn't notice while she glared fiercely at Hook.

"Dear girl, whatever is the matter? Have we not done all you asked and more?"

"I certainly did not ask to be rudely awakened or exposed in front of you and another man! I did not ask to be spoken to as if I were a child, and I—"

"You foolish girl!" Hook yelled. His hooked arm flew down to the biggest pillow in front of Wendy's legs and tore through it effortlessly, effectively destroying her cover. His voice was harsh but his face remained calm. "You will dispense with this attitude immediately or I will throw you overboard, and I daresay you would much prefer my awakenings to what you would receive from the mermaids." Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but Hook raised his hand and continued, "As for my base motivations, you may let them fly from your thoughts. I have no motivation other than discovering what is your purpose here and why you have decided to become my nuisance instead of your father's." Hook paused and inspected the fingernails on his left hand closely, then turned his eyes back to Wendy. "While you are on my ship—where you asked, nay, begged, to be taken, I might point out—you will obey my orders, and you will speak politely with all the courtesy I'm sure you learned in your fine English schools, or you will be spoken to as the child you were when last I saw you, since I have yet to see evidence that you have become otherwise."

Before Wendy could reply, Hook smiled politely, turned, and walked away with Smee in tow. She didn't know what to say, anyway. He was right. She had not come to any harm, and he had, in fact, gone to great lengths to make her comfortable. She was doing quite well as a prisoner, if that's what she was. It seemed like ages ago that she had stumbled through the trees to beg Smee for help, but the ache in her head reminded her how little time had passed. She let her face relax from the glare she still wore and leaned into the back of the sofa. Wendy detested being spoken to like a child, but Hook had a point. She was being ungrateful and incredibly rude when all that was really warranted was politeness and a healthy dose of fear and respect. He was a murdering pirate, but he'd done her no harm yet. Moreover, if he wanted to kill her, she'd probably be dead already. She looked at the clothing he'd brought her and smiled a little. At least she'd be able to change out of her nightgown. She'd been wearing it for days, and it was becoming noticeable.

Though not without some pain, Wendy was able to wash quite well in a small tub left for her and change into the fresh set of clothing. She tossed her nightgown into what appeared to be a basket of laundry and found a silver comb for her hair. She combed slowly to avoid as much pain as possible but had to take frequent breaks before she could finish. While she rested, she looked around the cabin and took in its richness. Peter's underground home was all leaves flowers and make believe, but Hook's cabin was all glossy dark woods and smooth, bright fabrics with intricate detail. There were books and strange devices, and everything had a purpose. It was as big a change from her pretend home with Peter or her real home in England as she could have hoped for, albeit not exactly the circumstances of her dreams and wishes. It was, at least, an opportunity to find that grey area she'd been thinking about somewhere outside of good versus evil.

During her first trip to Neverland, Wendy had been too young to really understand her feelings about what had happened, but if she was going to be honest with herself now, she'd have to admit that there was a flaw in her old storybook beliefs. Peter was not all good, and Hook was not all evil. Who was more of what was going to be an adventure to sort out, at least.

When she finally finished combing through her hair, Wendy looked in the large mirror in front of her. Outlined with the background of the stunning cabin, she looked small and afraid, even in the captain's magnificent altered white shirt and blue leggings. Her hair, still damp, hung loose around her shoulders and down to the small of her back; her eyes looked as glassy and turbulent as the sea outside. She sighed a little and smiled, then raised her hand to tentatively stroke the bandage around her neck. He would have killed me already, she thought again. He would have had it over and done with by now. She thought it over and over as she stared into the mirror, into herself. All the time she stared at what seemed to her like the form of a frightened young girl, she never realized how very like a grown woman she was beginning to look.