Chapter 9 - A Matter of Time

From the sun's station in the sky, Wendy guessed she had slept at least half of the day away. Once she'd bathed and dressed, Hook had sent a small lunch of bread, cheese, and fruit, but she was denied permission to leave the cabin. Despite being surrounded by all manner of interesting objects, books, and more books, Wendy was desperately bored and lonely. She welcomed the solitude at first, especially after having spent the last week surrounded by loud, excitable children, but the novelty of peace and quiet quickly ran its course and left her longing for something, anything, to happen.

She nestled herself in the bay window behind the captain's desk and watched the sea. Her thoughts varied, but mostly centered on what might happen to her. She felt reasonably secure about her safety, but the question went beyond that. What would become of her life? Could she go back to England? Did she want to? Would she prefer a life of piracy? Was that even an option? As compelling as the idea had once been, it now left Wendy feeling tired and vulnerable. She missed her family, and as annoyed as she was to realize it, she missed Peter. It wasn't the games or the surrogate children, but the idea of him, the idea that she could be young forever by association with him.

Hours passed and Wendy drifted in and out of sleep at the window. She watched the water change from its early afternoon shade of perfect blue to evening shades of red and gold. An unwelcome throb found its way into her head, and she placed a hand over her bandages delicately. How long was it going to hurt that badly? As she smoothly traced the cotton on her throat, it occurred to her that she didn't even know what the gash looked like. She shuddered a little and tried to forget what she imagined a cut that bled as much as hers did would look like.

The sun set completely before Hook returned to his cabin. He opened the door without knocking and stepped in quietly enough that Wendy didn't notice him from her window seat. He watched her for a moment, curled up with her knees to her chest, her right cheek pressed against the window. Her hair hung loosely down her back in varied waves and shades of gold. He smiled. "It is good to see you cleaned up and about, my dear."

Wendy jumped a little at the sudden voice, but she was less surprised than she might have expected. She turned to face Hook and tried to keep her face neutral. "Thank you for providing me with the means, captain," she said, standing up. "And thank you for the clothes."

"It is my pleasure. Did your day pass well?"

"Yes, thank you, sir," Wendy said. She wanted to complain about being idle and lonely, but was afraid to provoke him or seem once more ungrateful. "Your cabin is lovely."

Hook shrugged and smiled, and Wendy thought he looked as charming as he ever had. "'Tis a fine place, I think. I am glad you agree, as it will be your home until I discover your purpose and decide what to do about it."

Trying to avoid giving away her contempt for sharing his space, Wendy smiled graciously. At least there was decent food on the ship, and she could bathe. Her private thought of food was punctuated with a very public sound of hunger from her stomach. She gasped and put a hand over her belly. "Excuse me!" she whispered.

"Perhaps it is time to eat. Will you join me?"

Did she have a choice? The fact was, even if she did, Wendy was fairly certain she would have said yes. She accepted his offer with a simple "Yes, Captain, please," and waited patiently at her window while he exited the cabin for a half hour or more. When he returned, it was with several of the crew, all of whom carried essential items for the broad mahogany table at which she had dined once before on her first trip to Neverland. A plate of cheeses was set next to a bowl filled with fruits that was next to a roasted chicken that was next to a basket of hot rolls, and more food was brought in to fill the table. Wendy thought there must be other guests for dinner if so much food was necessary, but only two places were set, each with shining silver charger plates below black dinner plates with silver rims.

What had seemed like a lot of food when it was being brought in turned out to be the right amount for the two of them. They dined in silence for a long time, Wendy too busy concentrating on eating politely and Hook more interested in watching than talking. When Wendy reached for another piece of bread from the basket, she met eyes with the Captain, and they both sat still and quiet for several seconds before he broke the silence.

"Take it, my dear."

Wendy's small hand closed around the roll and she slowly pulled it to her plate. She nodded politely and said, "This is an excellent meal, captain. Thank you."

"I am glad you are enjoying it," he replied. His face was unreadable but passive.

"I'm more than enjoying it," Wendy said, smiling. She chewed a bite of bread, politely wiped her mouth with an embroidered napkin from her lap, and continued, "It's the best food I've tasted in—well, I don't know—ages."

"You, of course, mean since you returned to Neverland."

"No, I—"

"Shh, I am not implying that you are paying me poor compliment by comparing this food to whatever you have scrounged for however long you were with Pan," Hook said, and at last the predatory look she was so familiar with had returned to his eyes. "While I both accept and appreciate your compliment and courtesy, you cannot deny my suspicion at your appearance." Hook picked up the napkin from his lap and used it to polish his hook, all the time staring at Wendy. He watched her, frozen with a look of curious panic, and smiled. Her eyes were rounded and perplexed, and her nose twitched gently as she breathed through barely parted lips. He guessed that maybe ten years had passed since they last sat across from one another at the same table. He had no way of knowing exactly, because years didn't pass in Neverland; time was only time. He wasn't even sure how old he was.

Without understanding why, Hook felt a stirring resentment for the girl's return. It coiled up inside him like a defensive snake, daring her to speak the words she spoke before his supposed death. As fast as his rage crested, it subsided when he saw a flicker of motion in her eyes. "I am not going to kill you, Wendy."

"I thought not."

"Then why are you so frightened?"

"Who said I was frightened?"

"You are trembling, dear girl."

"Perhaps your company is that inspiring."

"Perhaps," Hook said, using a dangerous tone, "your sarcasm is not." Hook smiled at Wendy's unmistakable gulp, and softened his voice to say, "But your wit is, at least, encouraging."

"What do you want with me, captain?" Wendy shouted suddenly. She stood, arms thrown up as she yelled. Her face flushed and she shook all over. "If you aren't going to kill me, what could you possibly desire?"

Hook raised an eyebrow at her question, but he didn't voice a reply until she seemed to have calmed down. He looked almost embarrassed by her behavior. "Setting aside, for a moment, the utter silliness of you making any inquiries as to my intentions when it is you who brought yourself here," he said, "I will at least answer your question before you answer mine, and you will answer them. If you are finished eating, let us move to a more comfortable setting."

He got up from his chair and walked to the more comfortable arrangement of armchairs in the corner of the cabin where he stared hard at Wendy until she did the same. He poured them each a snifter of brandy before sitting across from her and raising his eyebrows again. "Do you have any more outbursts planned, or may I count on you to behave properly?" A glare from his companion was as good as Hook expected, so he continued, "As to my intentions for you, I have none, at the moment. I will not say that nothing will ever occur to me, but how could I be expected to have made plans when you only arrived yesterday, and I had no prior knowledge of it? I did not even know you had returned to Neverland until you appeared on my deck." This seemed to satisfy Wendy, who was tentatively sniffing her brandy. "May I ask you, my beauty, how it is you came to return?"

Wendy considered the question for a moment before sighing, taking a sip of brandy, and looking up at Hook. "I returned home from school just over a week ago. It was the end of my final term, summer, and I had been looking forward to spending time with my family." She paused and frowned. "Almost as soon as I returned, my father, mother and aunt told me it was time to begin thinking about courtship offers and marriage. I… couldn't bear it, couldn't imagine finally having grown up and right away being thrown into another situation out of my control; I realized that was what I'd always been afraid of about growing up," Wendy said with a sad smile.

"Go on," Hook said.

"That same night, I went to the nursery and I fell asleep at the very window through which Peter first heard my stories. I woke up to find him back," Wendy laughed a little and looked at the ceiling of the cabin. "After all those years, he finally came back to me. He thought it was spring…" A tear slipped from the inside corner of her left eye, but she didn't try to stop it. "Anyway, you want to know how I got back, well, there you are. Peter came to me, and I agreed to come back with him. I was older, and he didn't like it, but he accepted me and I met the new boys and mended their clothes like always. I told stories and did all the things I loved doing the first time, but something is different. For one thing, I think Peter has grown almost intolerably arrogant." Hook snorted, and Wendy smiled at him. Of course Hook would have found him to be intolerable for much longer than she had. "Maybe I'm the one who changed."

Hook smiled and raised his glass to her before taking a drink and saying, "Without a doubt." He stared at her for a moment, considering her answer and his next question. "How did you come to be injured? Pan is a fool, but he is proficient with a sword and would have killed you if he meant to."

"It wasn't Peter," Wendy said urgently. She realized how it sounded almost as soon as she spoke; she was defending him. Her face flushed pink, and she sipped at her brandy for a few moments before continuing. "It was Tinkerbell. She told Peter she was playing a prank on me. She meant to cut my hair while I was asleep, only she dropped the knife while she was flying above me." Wendy glared fiercely into the snifter and gripping it so hard that Hook wondered if she'd break the stem.

"A dreadful little creature," he said. "What did Pan do?"

"My scream woke him up, but he laughed when He found out from Tinkerbell what she'd done. It was a game to him, Captain," Wendy said, and she looked sad and helpless again. She looked exactly as she had when he told her all those years ago that Pan couldn't feel. "He laughed," she whispered, and a second tear slipped down her cheek.

Hook placed his glass on the table and dropped to his knees in front of Wendy. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tear away just as he had done the last time he saw her heart breaking on account of Pan, only this time it wasn't because he wanted to manipulate her. The feeling was alien and unexplainable to him; he had no idea why his instinct was to make her feel better rather than worse, or why he wanted to discourage fear. "He laughed," Hook repeated finally, in a whisper. "He laughed, and you ran away."

"I had to," Wendy cried. "I thought… I thought the Indians might help me, only I couldn't find them." She sniffed and accepted the handkerchief from Hook, but he remained at her side, still eye level even on his knees. "I couldn't find them, but Peter found me. He came after me, and when he found me we heard the pirates, and he was going to fight them, but I told him he had to go back home and go to bed because it was past bedtime, and I was his mother, wasn't I? He had to listen to me, and he did; he listened because he loves the game so much." Wendy's eyes shifted from Hook's to her lap, then back up. "It was always the game. I know that now," she said. Hook didn't move, but she knew he wanted her to continue. "I recognized Mister Smee's voice and thought he might remember me, or at least take me to the ship. I guess it never occurred to me what would happen if I was wrong, but it doesn't matter now, does it?" She tried to smile as she wiped her eyes again. "I'm here now, and I was right. You helped me, and I cannot thank you enough."

"Indeed," Hook said, but he still looked perplexed. He was most confused by himself, but Wendy's attitude toward Pan was of extreme interest to him. She seemed torn between her childhood adoration and loyalty and what was becoming apparent to her as an adult. She knew Pan was a child and would be forever, but part of her still longed for his affection and respect, two things Peter Pan would never understand. He thought about questioning her further, but nothing he might have asked was urgent, and he was tired. He stood up, never taking his eyes off of her, and offered a hand to help her out of her chair. S he accepted it, but cautiously, and he knew it was because she didn't really trust him yet. She was a smart girl, always had been. "I'll send Smee in to clean and re-dress your wound," he said.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Get some rest; we will talk more tomorrow." Hook gave her a short nod and walked away from her.

Wendy knew it was an order, not a suggestion or request. Smee came in almost as soon as the captain had left. The older pirate was gentle in tending to her wound. When he finished, he measured her in order to make more precise alterations on some of the captain's donated clothing for her. She thanked him graciously, though she had to disguise a yawn. Even though she'd slept a fair part of the day, her most recent encounter with Hook left her drained and she was ecstatic to find the sofa bed ready for her.

Hook leaned with his elbows on the railing of the poop deck. The sea churned, turbulent and smacking against the sides of the ship. Stars hid behind misty purplish clouds, a sure sign that Pan found something troublesome. No doubt, he had realized something was wrong where Wendy was concerned. How long would it be before he came looking for her? Hook wondered what he would do when it happened and whether or not he ought to hand the girl over without trouble. He expected it was not what she would prefer, but he wouldn't know without further questioning, which, as he was disappointed in himself to realize, he had not the heart to finish all in one evening. Hook watched the violent swirls of green tinted water splash and twist itself into waves, only looking away when he heard Smee's footsteps approaching from behind.

"Is it a storm, cap'n?" the boatswain asked. His little round spectacles sat crooked on his nose and his white beard shone brightly in sharp contrast to his dark eyes. The last vestiges of a sunset that occurred hours before seemed to live in the rosiness of his cheeks. Hook smiled at his companion and nodded his head, then stared back into the water. "D'ya think it's Pan?"

"Of that I have no doubt, Smee," Hook said. The ocean's surface varied fantastically and changed under the grey sky, first blue, and then green, then darker blue and the waves crowned with foam that sprayed salty and fresh against the dark wood of The Jolly Roger. "No," Hook said, "not a storm, not yet, but it is only a matter of time." It would all become clear in a while—the girl and his own strange curiosity would all make sense—Hook knew he was right. He knew because everything in Neverland was a matter of time, always, never, and forever