Hi, my dear readers!

It's Sunday and about time to publish the next chapter. And I can reveal that this chapter will be romantically but also troublesome, because Peter has a fight (literally) within the orphanage that will provoke a storm.

Thank you so much for the feedback you gave on the last chapter,

Have fun with the new one

Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 52 – Pleasure, Mischief and Pain

Wendy and James might have suspected that they were the topic of discussion in Aunt Millicent's front hall, but they wouldn't have cared. Both lay wrapped in each other's arms, skin damp, breathless, enjoying the afterglow of the bliss they had given each other. Their lovemaking had been almost frantic, their need for unity had overwhelmed them. Now the first storm gently ebbed away, leaving them pleasured, yet each hungry for the other. To have been separated by force, each thinking they would never be reunited had wounded their souls. Wounds which had to heal, which they could mend together.

James' large hand gently stroked Wendy's soft bottom, down her legs and up again to the small of her back, while his truncated arm held her close. With all his memories restored (or so he thought), he knew the commitment he felt for this particular girl was entirely new.

Wendy sighed in contentment, pressed close to him. Her left hand between them, she laid her right one over his heart – just there, over the fading bruise. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she pressed a kiss on the spot; feeling his heart beneath her lips, his steady rhythm of life. "I'm so amazed the dragon scale saved you," she whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Aye! Now we both know how powerful a thimble is – well, the thimbles of Neverland."

Wendy giggled. "It all started with that little metal cap – so long ago." She laid her head back on his chest. "I'm so grateful you weren't really hurt, that you were able to come to London." She rubbed her cheek on his chest, feeling his hairs tickling her. "I don't know what I would have done. No, I did swear to avenge you and to save Peter, but what then? Life without you is no life for me."

Hook felt a lump rising in his throat at those last words. He was truly loved! This girl with the face and smile of an angel, the claws and temper of a lioness LOVED him. He felt like flying! Even without fairy-dust! Then he realized what else she said. "You wanted to avenge me?" he asked.

"Aye!" A tiny frown appeared between her brows. "I planned to ruin Dalton in society and financially. Appearing ridiculous in his social circle is deadly."

Hook whistled softly. "Danger, your name is 'Woman," he grinned. "Never mess with Wendy Darling!"

She lifted her head again and looked at him. "Never mess with my man!" she said firmly. "Whoever dares harm you will face consequences from me. I may be 'just a little woman,' but there are many ways to ruin someone."

He smiled at her. "You mean every word," he said amazed.

"Indeed!" Wendy nodded. "I tried to stop him and the others when they took Peter away, but I was too slow. Yet Peter was able to tell me what really happened to you – or so we both thought. That Dalton himself shot you." She lifted her right hand, the gold dolphins on her arm glinting in the light from the windows "My palm burned after I gave him the slap of his life." She grinned. "His cheek was still red that midday. Nissa told me so after she and Bumblyn listened in on him and Lunette. I learned from them about his gambling debts and wanted to use that to destroy him."

"That might work," Hook nodded, then he lifted both brows. "Any chance you'll tell me who this 'Nissa' is you keep mentioning?"

She propped her chin on his chest, looking at him attentively. "You really don't remember?" she said softly after a few seconds.

He frowned. "Remember?"

"Nissa, the Brownie," she repeated.

"I know her?"

Wendy sighed. "You told me that you heard a voice warning you in one of the visions you had from me – the one when I was in a library." Remembering, he nodded. She continued, "That voice was Nissa, a Brownie who lives in the manor." She saw his eyes widen in surprise. "She's lived there for a very long time. She told me that she came with your mother to England, and that she knew you from birth."

"What? B-b-b-but … I would remember her. No child could ever forget a member of the Little People if-"

"She caused you to you forget," Wendy interrupted him softly and saw him frowning. "She warned you about Ashford's henchman when you approached the manor – that they had set a trap for you. She left the manor and intercepted you on the road to keep you from danger. But you didn't want to leave without her, so … she erased herself from your memories and vanished. She said that you looked confused for a moment, then you saw your pursuer and fled. The last thing she learned about you was that all trace of you had been lost somewhere in Bristol. Then she began the long wait for your return."

James blinked a few times. He hated the thought that someone had tinkered with his memory. Again! He already had the 'pleasure' of their recovery in Neverland – because of the island's magic (or that of the fairies, whichever applied). And now one of those little troublemakers had stirred around in his mind at home?

Then it dawned on him: "One moment. Are you telling me that same Brownie from my life two hundred years ago is still … there?"

Wendy smiled again. "Brownies can live a long time, it seems. She is really old – wizened, actually – but her heart still yearns for your return. It was she who hid Bumblyn when he sneaked into the manor. She dug tunnels everywhere between walls and there are only a few rooms that she can't enter through a hidden entrance. That's how she observed me examining your painting and realized you must still be alive. She gathered all the information for me I needed. She even stole Dalton's motorcar key and retrieved my diaries! She warned Bumblyn and me that Lunette was doing witchcraft when I was on the telephone with Mother and Mr. Smee, and she brought me tea and food without Lunette's sleeping draughts." Wendy saw James' compassionate expression and added, "Nissa told me that you wouldn't remember her." Wendy shook her head. "I promised her I'd tell you about her. She … requested your forgiveness for removing your memories, but she saw no other way to save you. It seems you refused to leave her behind, but you never would have been able to escape and to go into hiding with a Brownie as your companion. So she took the step that would gave you a chance to escape, but it condemned her to two hundred years of loneliness."

James listened to her tale, astonishment and empathy growing in his heart. He could see Wendy was taken with the little creature, realizing her situation. He would expect that. Wendy's big heart wouldn't allow anything else, especially since she was familiar with the Good Neighbors and loved most of them dearly. It seemed that her attitude toward them was the key to the occasionally inexplicable change of heart of the otherworldly beings in Neverland. But they also lived here, in London, Kensington Gardens, Surrey, everywhere, it seemed. He suddenly realized that these beings were probably all over the world. And Wendy Darling had no problem winning bogeys, fairies, gnomes or unicorns to herself.

Hook was cautious when it came to the Little People, for they could be quick, deceptive, and even wicked. But he had assumed that they only existed in Neverland, only to discover his mistake now. Tinker Bell had gotten the fairies in Kensington Garden to help her search for Pan. Even in his childhood, there had been bogey who … who had been his friend! Of course she was! That had to be the reason why this Brownie made such a grave step on his behalf, condemning herself to obscurity and loneliness for two centuries.

"Alone, you say," he murmured, feeling resentment turn to pity. Of course, this 'Nissa' had covered his memories, but it had only been to help him – to protect him. As he saw Wendy looking up at him, he pursed his lips. "That … is an awfully long time."

"What surprised me is that she stayed true to your family and loyal to you," his lover pointed out. "When she heard from Bumblyn about your supposed death, she was devastated. And when I told her that you survived, she burst into happy tears. She loves you very much."

He sighed. Interestingly, it had truly come to pass that he would not die 'unloved'. "Does she know what became of me?" he asked carefully. House sprites had "spleen," one might say: They only served humans with genuine and decent hearts. And he was a pirate and had killed, and not only in self-defense.

"What? That you are a pirate now?" Wendy chuckled. "Yes, she knows. At first she was shocked, then she learned of you heroic deeds in Neverland" – he rolled his eyes – "and instantly she was proud of you." She placed both arms on James' chest and laid her chin on them. "I promised Nissa that we would come back – not only to save the dragonling and Professor Hutchings, but also to get her out and take her back to Neverland. I think she likes that idea."

Aha, this was the moment. He cleared his throat. "Returning to Neverland … uh a… will be a problem," he murmured.

Wendy blinked. "A problem? You mean, because I grew up? Peter will -"

"It has nothing to do with you being grown." He took a deep breath. "I can't return to Neverland. Neither I nor my crew." Here eyes grew wide, and he sighed. "Niam made it clear that, if I left the island, it would be forever. The gates to Neverland are closed to me and the others. There is no going back now."

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been emptied over her. James Hook – banished from Neverland? "That … that can't be," she whispered. "Why? You … you belong to Neverland! Well, sort of."

James swallowed. "As I understood Niam, Neverland is a kind of refuge for all who are in need of safe harbor, you might say. That's the reason the Indians are there – and mermaids, fairies, gnomes and all the other folk who needed to flee this world. That was the reason why our ship made its way to Neverland in the beginning, but the danger we were escaping all those decades ago doesn't exist anymore. So we can't return to the island." He smiled ruefully. "I think even Peter won't be able to take us back now. We would need the fairies to carry the ship and they won't do it again. Or I could look for one of the gates to Neverland – maybe the one in the Bermuda Triangle, but -"

"But what about the portal Dalton used? He didn't 'need' to come to Neverland, yet he and his men went, nonetheless," Wendy suggested.

"Aye, but they were intruders. You knew how the island reacted to them. Whoever isn't welcome there has trouble. And what happens to intruders will be far more serious than what happens to the welcomed inhabitants."

Wendy nibbled at her bottom lip, a gesture inciting heat in the man watching her. "That fits. Nissa told me that one of the hunters is transforming into a fishman. He was scratched by one of the mermaids that pursued Dalton and his men after they kidnapped me. I'm sure Peter got scratched by them, too, when playing and swimming with them, but he must be immune to their infection. Is it because he is Peter Pan? Or does the man change because he was an intruder?"

Hook snorted. "I think both apply." He chuckled. "So, one of them is changing into a merman. Interesting. Smee and I already speculated what might happen to the bloke who was injured by one of those fishladies."

"You think it serves him right," Wendy interpreted.

"Aye!" he agreed enthusiastically. She understood. After everything he and the crew had gone through because of Dalton and his men, this was indeed a kind of payback. She sighed.

"So … we can't return to Neverland." She didn't like the idea, but if James was with her, she didn't mind. She watched him. "How do you feel about it?"

James shrugged. "I knew the consequences before we returned. I gave my men the choice of returning or remaining. Except for two, everyone came with me. We know that we have to build new lives here. A few will certainly have difficulty with that and I'm ready to support them, if I can, if they want it. And concerning me …" He lifted his hand, combing his fingers gently through his lover's long hair. "I know exactly what I want." He gave her a wicked smile, bouncing his eyebrows.

Wendy laughed quietly. "You're insatiable," she teased.

A smirk reached his lips and made his moustache twitch. "For you? Always!"

He tightened his arm around her and moved unexpectedly, then she found herself already beneath him. "James!" Wendy squeaked, giggling. "I have to get up and dress! Mother will certainly be back soon!"

"We have two hours," he growled deeply in his throat – a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "We still have time. And I will use every single minute of it!"

She saw the fire flaring up in his forget-me-not-blues, and felt heat rising from her belly into her lap and spreading beneath her skin along her limbs. Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled his face down to hers; enjoying the knowledge that they were again united. "Then do your worst, great pirate captain," she whispered, arching her back and feeling his ardor.

Promptly, the heat in him increased. This little vixen knew which notes to play. "As my lady wishes," he murmured, capturing her lips again; surrendering to the need still burning in him to take her every way possible …

*** PP *** PP ***

If there was one need that burned in Peter, then it was the need to escape. This situation was even worse than being caught by Hook in earlier times, trapped in a cave by heaps of stones, facing two angry trolls and dealing with nasty gnomes – all at once, of course. During those adventures he had suffered, yes, but he had known how to handle it. Those dangers had been familiar to him; an angry Hook, being buried in a mountain, fighting evil and stupid creatures were routine. But this here was something utterly unlike.

Since the early morning, he and the others had slogged through their work in the washhouse, doing laundry for other people. At first he refused, but then Thin Joe had made it clear that not only he but also the boys in his group would be punished. It was blackmail, and fury seethed in the Prince of Neverland, whose strong sense of justice had been flaring for some time.

But he had to obey. For now. For the sake of the others. And so, setting his jaw, with narrowed eyes and fantasies of a thousand ways of giving these grownups a fitting payback, he put his back into the work aside the others.

The work was physically strenuous. Talking was not allowed, there were no breaks in the work, and even if someone needed the water closet, he or she got stern reminders "not to dawdle!" Peter wasn't allowed to go alone. The one time he did, Thin Joe had silently accompanied him.

Now, an hour after their so-called noon "meal," Peter was finally exhausted. He knew everything he had been through, including blood loss and drugs, combined with too little food and the severe stress (even if he would have denied the latter). His neck, shoulders and arms ached from the repeated rubbing of the laundry along the washboards, carrying the wet blankets and comforters; the cut from the enchanted knife stung worse than ever. The air was sticky with foul-smelling steam from the hot washtubs. The building smelled of soap everywhere and the floor was slippery …

… which is why Betty lost her balance and fell holding a load of freshly rinsed blankets. Hastily she rose and collected her load, looking about for who might have seen her. The two other girls who worked with her tried to hide her accident. For naught. Malcom, a kind of trustee for the warders who wasn't working with the others, had just entered the room and saw the misfortune.

"Are you so stupid that you can't even walk straight?" he sneered, approaching.

"It was an accident," Betty said, checking the blankets.

Malcom's hand closed around one of her wrists and he yanked her toward him. "You're coming with me to Mr. Milton. He'll decide what to do with you."

"It was an accident!" Betty snapped, pulling away. She had learned to stand up for herself long ago, knowing no one would stand with her because everyone feared the warders.

Everyone – except for that new boy: Peter Pan.

As Betty struggled, Malcom turned to slap her, but the blow never came. Another hand caught his wrist and held it tightly, while a pair of narrowed blue eyes looked at him angrily. "You should be ashamed to hit a girl!" Peter hissed.

Malcom stared, open-mouthed, at him. None of the other boys had ever dared to interfere. Then the anger that always lingered below his skin flared up. "Are you batty?" he asked sharply, and tugged at his arm, but to his surprise the younger was stronger than he looked. He couldn't pull free.

"A man will protect a girl, not harm her!" Peter said loudly. His just instincts had come to life the moment he heard the sound of her fall and Betty's cry of surprise and pain. And when he saw Malcom going into the next room where Betty and a few other girls worked, he knew what was coming. But seeing the older boy drag Betty with him, then threatening to hit her filled the cup to overflowing. Following his instinct, Peter had darted forward, caught Malcom's arm and placed himself firmly between the other boy and the girl.

"Let go, fairy-boy, or you'll regret it!" Malcom snarled and lifted the other hand he had balled into a fist.

"Ready for you, troll," Peter replied and moved Betty to the other girls, out of the way. Malcom attempted to strike him. Peter ducked, using the other boy's momentum as he fell, pulling the other with him while shoving both feet into his belly. With an cry, Malcom flew over Peter, landing against one of the tubs, sloshing the smelly water all over him. The other children were so surprised by the activity, they all burst out laughing.

Peter got up, slower than usual but quicker than his opponent. The eternal boy turned, suddenly feeling more alive than he had over the last four days, yet the buoyancy that had always been his advantage was missing. He still couldn't fly and unhappy thoughts weighed him down. Yet he balled his fist, ducking into a fighting stance, ready to defend himself and Betty.

"You … you'll pay for that, fairy-boy!" Malcom spit, trying to rise on the soapy floor.

"Get in line!" the eternal youth replied; the first impish smirk appearing on his face.

"Peter, behind you!" Betty screamed, who could barely believe that the strange, new boy had really stood up for her – even to a fight with Malcom!

The Prince of Neverland again let himself fall and roll aside, escaping the grasp of two boys who were Malcom's minions, Barney and Luke. The many, many fights with Hook and his crew had trained Peter in ways the others would never have imagined.

The two boys reaching for him clutched at thin air and stumbled – time enough for Peter to swipe one's feet out from under him. His opponent fell against a tub and doused himself, too. The other went for Peter, but the eternal boy was too quick. Avoiding the other boy's attack, he sidestepped, shoving a leg between the feet of his opponent who promptly tripped and sprawled on the puddled floor.

Frank, his friend Anthony and many of the others were now closing in on the scene, abandoning their own work. While Thin Joe and two other warders were outside having a smoke, there was only Snippy Mildred left to supervise, and the sour woman had no real say with the children, so her shouts to 'come back' and 'stay where you are' went unheeded.

Again he heard, "Peter, behind you!" Frank's warning made Peter turn, and not a moment too soon. Someone had swung one of the long laundry poles at his head. It missed him by an inch. It was Malcom who had grabbed what was nearby as a weapon.

"Coward!" Peter growled, avoiding two more swipes. To his left, he saw Malcom's two friends regaining their feet and closing on him, while the older boy held him, swinging the staff.

"Stop it! Now! Or you all will get punished!" Again Mildred's words were lost in the rising cheers.

Frank watched as his new friend avoided Malcom's blows and also Luke and Barney. Frank snatched up a second staff. "Peter, here!" he called, tossing it to Peter, who caught it easily.

"Little rat!" Malcom snarled and attacked Peter again. Peter had often fought with staves with the Lost Boys when they "battled" on the beach. Now he parried all attempts by Malcom. Then took his by one end, pointing the other at Malcom – like a sword.

"Want to play pirate?" the older boy sneered. "Come on, just try to get me!"

Peter ignored the sneer and attacked, as he'd done many times before. He whacked Malcom's staff aside and jabbed his into the other's left shoulder; making him cry out. Staggering back, Malcom shook his head in disbelief. Not only that this crazy 'fairy-boy' outwitted him – if only for the moment – but as the other children were surrounding them, cheering Peter, jealousy and animosity were added to his motivations. Charging forward, he attacked again, but found that using both hands was of no use when faced with a sort of sword fight – even if the weapon was only a stick. Using only his right hand now, he fought back the best he could. For a moment, the sticks/swords clacked together. Malcom blocked Peter's second attempt to underrun his defense, and both stared with narrowed eyes at each other, then, astonishingly, the eternal boy began … to grin.

"Ready for a lesson, goblin?" he taunted, stepping back. He jumped backwards and lifted his weapon again in a challenge.

"Peter, watch out!" "Behind you!" "Look out!"

The shouts came as four hands took him. Malcom's friends had used the pause in the battle to grab him. Tsk tsk. They should have known it better. Falling against Luke to his right, who stumbled, Peter raised his weapon and shoved Barney to his left, then leaped to his feet and attacked Malcom again. And all was done with the expertise of long practice and countless battles.

By now the children were applauding and cheering. Gleefully they watched as Peter taught Malcom and his two minions a lesson. Chanting his name, they cheered for him, even blocking Mildred from approaching the four boys.

Malcom avoided another thrust and just threw himself against Peter. He was taller, older and, at the moment, stronger than the weakened Pan. Both boys crashed to the floor, sticks flying. Peter turned his head as Malcom's fist came at his nose. The other boy screamed in pain as his fist slammed into the floor. Peter used the moment of his enemy's shock to push Malcom away from him and regain feet. He glanced toward the shouting at his left and grinned, seeing that a few other boys – among them Frank and his friend Anthony – were sitting on Luke and Barney.

Malcom stood, too, and clumsily reached for Peter, right hand not working so well. But Peter simply hopped to the side of one of the tubs used to rinse out the laundry, and balanced along the rim. Then, as Malcom leaned forward to grab him, Peter leaped to the other side of the tub – barely out of reach of the older boy, who roared in fury. He tried to reach Peter over the water, but only caught a grin. "Time for a bath!" Peter said with the cocky, challenging smirk that had infuriated Hook so many times. Peter hopped to the floor, bent forward as Malcom did the same, took the older boy's hand, and pulled. The outcome was inevitable – for Malcom. With a loud cry and a splash, he fell into the water, splashing much of it onto the floor, while Peter avoided the sloshing.

The other children were whooping and continued to call Peter's name – Frank and Anthony were one of the loudest. Peter felt new energy with every cheer, every blow given, while he turned around and bowed elegantly; grinning.

"I'll KILL you fairy-boy!" Malcom screamed, standing in the tub.

Peter opened his mouth for a challenge when the main door boomed open: "WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!?"

Joe Milton and the other two warders stood in the entrance. Thin Joe's eyes found the fair-haired boy who stood arms akimbo on the side of a tub, and then a seething Malcom, who stood IN that tube. Barney and Luke were held down by other boys, wet as drowned cats, too. And two long sticks lay on the floor. It was obvious what had happened. The chanting faded.

Thin Joe felt his temper rising, seeing dirty blankets on the swamped floor, and that miserable blond brat who must have outwitted the warders' 'young assistant' Malcom.

"Let Luke and Barney go!" he ordered sharply the other boys, then he pointed his right index-finger at Peter while he growled, "You come with me. NOW!"

"I'm not allowed to leave the washhouse, remember?" Peter replied with a cheery smile; feeling like himself again. There was a wave of subdued laughter from the other children who were watching him with admiration. Frank and Anthony had quietly withdrawn. They knew things would go badly for Peter, and they wanted to help him somehow. They would have to remain unobtrusive.

Thin Joe's face was a dangerous red. "Come here! Last warning!"

"'Last warning'?" Peter mocked. "Excellent. You're giving up." Snickers from the others; Frank bit his lip. He really wanted to tell Peter to shut up – he was making things worse. But he couldn't draw attention to himself or Anthony.

"COME HERE!" Joe yelled.

"Come and get me," the infuriating boy replied flippantly.

That was too much. Thin Joe raced around the tub toward Peter, who was quicker. Again. Running around the tub on the other side, he pushed Luke, who foolishly got into his way, toward Snippy Mildred, then Barney toward the other warders. One of them fell on the wet floor, and Peter jumped over the man. He rushed to the door, then loud alarming shouts from the other children reached him. A moment later one of the blankets fell over him like a net and Peter found himself sprawled on the floor. A heavy weight sat down on him – one of the warders.

"Got ya!" the man bellowed.

"GET OFF ME!" Peter demanded, almost reaching for his missing knife, but the large cotton blanket remained. Then the two men took his arms, pulling him to his feet; and a brutal slap hit him, and another. And another.

"You'll be locked up in the coal hole for A MONTH!" Joe shouted, while striking him again.

"Joe, stop it!" Mildred Wright caught his arm. "He is a child and you're a man!" The woman did her job and wasn't particularly fond of children, but seeing the boy's nose gush blood, she had to step in.

"This miserable little crapfest thinks he can-"

Mildred shouted, "Watch your language, Joe! How else can we train them not to use these words? And stop beating him! You could injure him!" Her small homely face was grim as she looked at Peter, whose eyes were swelling from the blows. The blood flowed steadily from his nose, and pulling a handkerchief out of a pocket, she pressed it against his nose. "Here, hold this!" she told Peter.

"What is going on in here?" Director Primely shouted from the doorway, Fat Elmer on his heels. Both had heard the racket from the washhouse. Primely immediately saw the chaos about him, the enraged Joe Milton, the new boy held forcefully with a bleeding nose, and the other children beginning to scatter.

"That brat picked a fight with Malcom," Joe hissed, waving an arm toward the swampy mess and discarded washing.

"He tried to slap Betty! What decent boy will beat a girl?" Peter objected, eyes narrowed.

"That bint dropped the clean blankets and-" Malcom was interrupted by Betty, who shoved herself through the crowd.

"I slipped and fell, then Malcom wanted to hit me for it. Peter stopped him -"

Primely raised a hand and the chatter promptly ended. His little eyes darted from Malcom to Betty, then to new boy and afterwards to Joe. He had a very good idea who gave Peter the bloody nose.

"Mr. Milton, you and Mr. Lewis bring the boy to my office. Malcom, go change. I want to talk to you later. The same for Luke and Barney. Betty, wash those blankets again." Raising his voice so all could hear in the washhouse: "ALL OTHERS get back to work!" He pointed at the wet floor. "And if this mess isn't cleaned immediately, no one gets dinner!" He turned on his heel, asking himself, "How shall I report this Mr. Whitemill? He's so proud of his washhouse, and now this happens while I'm in charge!"

Frank watched Peter being dragged away, and looked at Anthony. "This will be bad for him," he whispered. Then he looked at Malcom, who was climbing out of the tub; glaring hatefully after Peter, Luke and Barney helping him. Frank gulped.

This would be quite nasty for his new friend from the island.

Peter struggled as he was bullied through the washhouse, then the orphanage. At least Elmer allowed him to press the handkerchief against his nose, but the hands around his arms were steel. The wound inside his elbow from the witch's silver knife still had not healed, and hurt badly under their treatment. He was aware that serious trouble lay ahead, but he was too proud and too angry to care. Someone had to teach that twit Malcom a lesson – him, and his posse. Hitting a girl … unthinkable! Yet the icy silence from the three grownups made him wary. They quickly (too quickly) reached the director's office, squishing footsteps behind them.

Looking back, Peter saw his attackers trotting toward the staircase that led to the boys' dorms. Malcom, who'd suffered the worst, glared at him. "I'll get you for that, fairy-boy."

"Yah," Luke sneered; a man of few words.

Primely waved them off with the words, "Go dry off and come to my office afterwards. And don't threaten another boy; giving out lessons is my job."

Subdued, Malcom vanished upstairs, his two friends as well. Neither they nor the three grownups nor Peter were aware of the two young boys who had silently followed. The two saw Joe, Elmer, Primely and Peter enter the director's office and the door close. They waited a moment and crept to Primely's door, feeling they should do something for their new friend.

Primely planted himself in front of Joe and demanded a retelling of what happened, while Elmer steered Peter to the desk and remained behind him, hands around his arms.

Joe shot Peter a glare, then gave his version of what happened – skipping the reason he and the two other warders were out of the washhouse (smoking instead of watching the children).

Peter wasn't listening. His sharp eyes took in the desk full of papers. Office work – that was exactly why he had run away as a toddler: To escape that kind of work when he grew up. Imagine sitting all day on a chair and writing stupid things on stupid …

Something else caught his eye. One of those large papers folded together with printing all over them, like the grownups loved to read in the morning. At least that was what he had seen whenever he was in London. He knew that these things were called 'newspapers,' and one of them lay on 'Smitty's' desk. And there, right on the top, was a picture of a ship with shrouds, riggings, a mast and in front of it…

"Hook!" he whispered, amazed. Peering closely as he could at the portion he could see, he wondered: Was it a mistake? Hook was dead – but … there he was! Peter could see the large wide-brimmed hat with feathers, the long dark curls and the familiar face. He knew that newspapers were printed every day and told people about the newest events – thus the name 'news-paper'. So, how was it possible that there was now a picture of James Hook in one of those papers when the captain was dead? In Neverland no less, far, far away from London. Had he tricked death yet again or did the man on the picture only resemble the famously infamous pirate captain?

Wild hope flared up in Peter and his heart leapt upward. Leaning forward toward the desk, pulled to the picture like a moth to flames. Elmer saw that the boy's full focus lay on the newspaper, and released him.

With wide eyes Peter slowly took The Times into his hands to unfold it. And his suspicions were confirmed. That was James Hook, in all his glory, shaking another man's hand with his left one, metal claw on his right clearly visible. And there was another picture, showing Billy Jukes, Alf Mason, Mullins, Herbs and … there was Nibs! And if this wasn't enough, in the background of the four Peter recognized the bridge he always saw when flying through London. This could only mean one thing!

Relief mixed with a wave of utterly joy and exploded in Peter. "HE'S ALIVE!" he shouted triumphantly, whirling around to the three startled grownups who had finally stopped talking. With trembling hands he held the newspaper up. "Look! This is Hook! He's alive!"

Primely hated being interrupted. "What? Who?"

"Hook!" Peter shouted, beside himself with delight. "Captain James Hook! He is not dead! The viscount didn't kill him! I thought he was dead because that miserable viscount shot him in the heart, right in front of me, but James survived!" He threw the head back and let out a loud, happy crow. "I should have guessed as much! The codfish isn't easy to kill! HORAAAAYYYY!" Bouncing up and down in uncontainable joy, he looked again on the newspaper. His eyes filling with happy tears, grinning through the blood on his face, through the bruises. But he didn't care. James Hook, the man he had come to respect, was healthy and alive. Peter thought his heart would burst out of his chest. Then one more thing got through the joy: "He's here – in London! This is a bridge I know! The bridge with the large two towers. JAMES IS HERE!" He lifted a triumphant fist and crowed again.

Thin Joe and Primely stared at him, then Milton said slowly, "He is insane."

Peter laughed aloud, while heavy stones seemed to fall off him. "No, I'm not insane, I'm only happy. Hook lives!" He pushed the newspaper beneath Elmer's nose. "What do they say? What do they write on this paper about him?" he demanded.

Elmer hesitated. He had read the article that morning and knew what it said. But the boy was in deep water for fight, and therefore he, Elmer Lewis, shouldn't even speak to him. But seeing the happy tears and shining eyes, he heard himself answering, "It says he's the descendant of a real pirate captain and that he rebuilt the pirate's ship that is now down in the port."

"He is his own descendant?" Peter laughed again. "Hooky, how clever of you! It could have been my idea."

A hand took his shoulder and looking up, he glanced directly into Primely's round face. "You have no reason to celebrate, boy!" he snapped. "And stop this foolish behavior!"

Peter raised the paper to his face, still beaming. "This is Hook – the pirate captain I told you about! LOOK. It's him – with his crew and his ship, the Jolly Roger! A large four-masted galleon. You can't miss it. You gotta tell him I'm here, and that I -"

"Are you telling me you know this person?" Primely asked sharply; surely feeling his leg being pulled by this absurd youth again. "You made this up!"

"And now we know you can read – or you wouldn't know his name," Joe told with a growl.

"I can't read," Peter groaned. "I know his name because I knew Hook for ages!" He was still too pleased by his discovery to see that the situation had become even more dire for him, because none of the others believed him. "Just let him know where I am so -"

"I certainly won't bother a sea captain – commander of a theater ship or not! – because of a mad boy who belongs in an asylum!" Primely snarled.

Peter sighed. "You won't bother him, Smitty. Hook is here to find me and -"

Slap!

His ear was ringing. The director took a deep breath. "There. Now it happened. I lost my temper – thanks to you!" he sniffed primly. He glared at the youth with his hand on his left cheek, looking at him shocked. "And you STOP LYING RIGHT NOW. That man is here for business and to research his ancestors – and not some insane young street urchin!"

The slap had dissipated Peter's happiness and he finally realized that the others didn't believe him. But he fought the rising dread. The knowledge that Hook wasn't dead still sang in him. "James came for me. For me and Wendy. If you tell him I'm here, you'll see that I'm not lying. He'll take me away and you'll be rid of me once and for all," he said soberly.

"I would love to be rid of you, because the only thing you've brought since your arrival is trouble!" Primely said harshly. "But the viscount paid me to take you in, and should he ask me about you, I don't want to lie to him."

"Then don't," Peter frowned. "Tell him I went home, and everything will be fine!"

"Home?" the director echoed. "You have no home, boy! No one wants you. No one will ever come for you – no sea captain, no parents, no friends." He saw with satisfaction that these words struck home, for Peter suddenly had a vivid memory of visiting his mother outside the window of his old nursery, in the dark, finding it closed and barred and another baby in her arms. "You're nothing more than a mad little boy who won't recognize a second chance when it looks him straight in the face," he said, twisting the knife. "It's about time that you learn that everything has consequences." He turned towards Joe Milton. "Twenty strokes with the switch, then lock him into the dark room for a week. One meal a day – and if he's still making trouble after that, then —"

"You can't do that!" Peter gasped; realizing that the men really didn't believe him, that they wouldn't inform Hook, but were about to do terrible things to him. "Hook is searching for me and if you lock me away -"

"STOP LYING!" Primely shouted again. "That man doesn't know you – and he never will! And if I EVER hear you mention pirates, fairies or any other silly fantasies your lunatic mind comes up with again, I'll call the nearest madhouse to -"

"Don't you get it, Smitty, or don't you WANT to get it? Hook does know me!" Peter implored. "We knew each other for many years. I was the one who gave him the reason for his name: Hook. But we made peace, and he became a friend. More than a friend. He's a … an adviser, a … a protector." Once again Joe and Elmer took his upper arms, and he struggled as they pulled him to the door. "Get OFF me!" he shouted, knowing what to expect. "You should know, Hook will gut you if you hurt me!"

"Gut us?" the director gasped; eyes widening. "You tell me this man lost his hand because of you, took you in and now you say he will slice us open for you? You are mad!" He looked at Joe. "Twenty strokes – and lock him into the dark room. And if he gives you too much trouble, secure him! I think I'll call Bethnal House. Dr. Walker still owes me a favor." He watched Peter with small eyes. "A few months in a padded cell with medication might save you."

Peter had no idea what 'Bethnal House' was, but he knew what he meant by 'medication.' He paled. "You can't do this," he breathed and shook his head. "You can't take me somewhere else and lock me away!"

"Not I, but the doctors will. And as soon as possible." Primely spoke softly now, a sharp contrast to his flushed face and the furious expression in his little eyes.

"But … how shall Hook find me?" Peter whispered, feeling fear for the first time.

Primely simply waved Milton and Lewis off, who moved into the hallway; dragging Peter with them.

"Smitty, Hook will kill you if you do this!" Peter shouted over his shoulder. "Do you hear me?" He struggled again, but the two warders knew how to handle a rebellious child. "Please," he begged them, "go to the port by the bridge and tell him where I am. Get Hook! He knows me, I swear it."

"Shut up!" Joe snarled.

"You don't understand," Peter screamed. "He's my friend! I thought he was dead but he's alive. And he's here in London – with his ship! He came for me. Get him, please!" He was pulled to another door where the warders usually stowed their things – and where the switch was kept.

Primely angrily shook his head, closing the door behind him, not seeing the two little boys hiding behind the next open door. Frank and Anthony looked at each other; horrified. They had heard every word. Twenty strokes with the switch … Peter would be in pain for days! And then to be locked away in the dark room – a small chamber in the cellars with no window. It was the worst punishment for every child in this dark and dull building. But that wasn't all. Peter's suffering would truly begin afterwards, and it gave the two boys the chills.

"Bethnal House," Frank whispered. "That horrible place. They say that … that people were chained to the walls, or had to wear barred wooden boxes over their heads, that they were shackled when they moved around."

Anthony moistened his lips. "Yeh, but that was hunnert years ago! D' y' think they'll do that to Peter, too?" he asked with a tiny voice; shuddering.

Frank nodded gloomily. "Yeh, they will. And they'll give him drugs and lock him away." He bit his lips, frowning in thought, then straightening. "We have to help him!"

The other boy's eyes grew wider. "How?" He thew his hands in the air. "I mean, we're alone, and except for us and maybe Betty, no one believes his stories. Everyone's glad that Malcom, Luke and Barney got their come-uppance, but none of them will risk the switch or the coal hole."

"So we get help," Frank said slowly, firmly. With surprising determination, he looked at Anthony. "We have to get this captain for him."

Anthony gasped. "That's crazy! We can't just leave the house. We have no money for the tube, or a bus to get to the port. Frank, we don't even know where we can find his captain. That port is really large."

It was that moment they heard Peter's muted wail, and knew that his punishment had begun. Anthony took a deep breath, hearing the sound of the switch and their friend's screams. "You're right, we gotta help. But how?"

A very grown-up look of determination appeared on Frank's small face. "We'll use a trick I've been saving to get away. And we do know where to find the captain. Didn't you hear how Peter said that he recognized the big bridge with the large towers in the picture? He has to mean the Tower Bridge. And if the Tower Bridge is in the picture he talked about, then there's only one place where that ship can be: the old docks next to the bridge." He peeked out the door, but Malcom, Luke, and Barney were still upstairs, changing. "Come on, we need our jackets."

TBC…

Yes, this was a rollercoaster – a good and a bad one. James learned about Nissa and that another sprite has played with his memories, and Peter maneuvered himself in even more trouble than he already was stuck in. Of course he had to defend Betty – a girl, who loves stories – and of course he had to clash with Malcom sooner or later, but the outcome is certainly worse than he could imagine. At least he knows now that Hook has survived and his new friends are hellbent to help him, but they are small boys around 8 or 9, so it won't be easy for them to do something at all…

In the next chapter something will happen you all are waiting for concerning our lovebirds. Furthermore Frank and Anthony will have their own adventure, the two Darling-ladies arrive at the Jolly Roger (together with Slightly) and at the manor something happens that will force Dalton to take action again.

I hope, you liked the new chapter, including the cuddling AND the fighting. Like always, I would be very, very happy to get some feedback, so please leave a few reviews.

Have a nice rest of the weekend and good start into the next week,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight