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By Hook or By Crook	By : OktoberBlack Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 14973 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Not my characters (except for the ones that are). Not making any money off of them. Wish I were, never going to be. Don’t sue me, please.

This made sense to me. I hope it makes sense to you. It doesn’t feel OOC to me, but if it does to you, please let me know. There is nothing that is written that can’t be rewritten!

By Hook or By Crook (for want of a better name)

Chapter Eighteen: A Change of Heart

I lay on the bed, stunned by what had happened. The room still spun but from the pain in my face and head as much as from the alcohol. Tears stung my eyes and I let myself weep—for the pain, for my life, for everything that had happened to me since being taken captive. I wanted a drink of water. I wanted some clothing. I wanted to go home. But what I did was fall asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I was shackled to the bed. I was still naked but was underneath the blankets. Someone must have moved me in the middle of the night, not just to put me under the covers but also to chain me up. I had a shackle on my right leg; it was chained to the bedpost and the bed was heavy enough that I couldn’t lift it myself. I needed to pee, but there wasn’t anything to use as a chamber pot. And my head. Oh my god, my head! I thought I was dying. I was so thirsty and my stomach hurt… and my head was going to fall off. I tried to sit up; it took me three tries just to sit upright and I had to hold my head to contain the throbbing. The room was already quite bright from the morning sun and the light hurt my eyes. Well, it hurt the eye I could actually open—my right eye was sealed shut, and I wasn’t sure exactly why. Stephano, for all his brilliance in using mirrors to reflect sunlight, didn’t actually have one in his bedroom, so I couldn’t see what I looked like. I looked around the bedroom. The bathtub and buckets were gone, taken, I assumed, while I was sleeping. The stuffed armchair sat in the centre of the room instead. I wasn’t sure what to do—I didn’t want to call out for someone to help me, but I also didn’t want to pee in the bed. I opted for the least embarrassing choice.
“Hello? Is anyone out there? Help?” I called out tentatively. I climbed out of bed carefully, my whole body now one big ache, and walked as far as my chain would allow me to go. “Hey! Anyone? I need a chamber pot!”
“Ah, you’re awake! We thought you were going t’sleep all day,” Smee said cheerfully as he bustled into the room with a chamber pot in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. “Here. Do your business and then push it under the bed. Then you can have your tea.” I almost didn’t want to wait for the tea, but I really needed to pee, so I did what I needed to do and then sat down on the bed. Smee handed me the mug and I drank, gratefully.
“Why am I now allowed to have tea?” I asked, when I’d finished the entire mug. It wasn’t very hot nor was it sweet, but it was wet and it went down very well.
“I can’t say you are,” Smee admitted. “But I can’t imagine anyone wanting to get up in the morning without a cuppa.” He grinned at me. “Now. Let’s take a look at your face, hmmm?”
“Did he send you here?”
“He? He who?”
“Hook. Did Hook tell you to doctor me?” I clarified.
“Oh, yes, Miss. I believe he feels quite sorry for what happened last night,” Smee said, clicking his tongue softly as he examined my eye and cheek. “That’s right nasty. What you need is ice, but we’re nowhere near the lower latitudes so that’s not likely to happen.”
“How come my nakedness doesn’t bother you this morning?” I asked, as he dabbed at my swollen right eye with a warm washcloth.
“I’ve decided not to notice it, Miss. From now on, I shall always see you as wearing the most beautiful of muslin gowns,” he said with another grin. “Makes it that much easier, and in Neverland, if I imagine it, it’s almost true.” I glanced down at my body and could just see the outline of some kind of ghostly dress wafting around my limbs. Bizarre. Well, whatever worked for him. “Now, I’m going to get some salve for your cuts. I don’t think you’ll need stitches but you’re definitely going to have some very interesting scars. Some people think that mars a woman’s beauty, but I’ve also thought it makes her more exotic.” He chucked me under the chin and then walked out. I sighed. Scars. Well, I was already covered in tattoos. I supposed a few scars on my face wouldn’t matter as long as I would eventually be able to see out of my right eye again.

Smee came back a few minutes later with another mug of tea, a plate of toast with butter and marmalade, and the aforementioned salve. I let him apply the salve before I attacked the second mug of tea. My stomach wasn’t quite up to the toast yet, but I knew that if Hook came in, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to keep it, so I tried to eat as much of it as I could.
“Your eye looks awful, Miss,” Smee said, tsking over it as he applied more salve. “Can you open it at all?”
“Nope. I think it’s too swollen,” I said, swallowing some more toast.
“I’ve washed away the blood that was crusting it over,” he said, as he dabbed carefully at my eye. “The salve should help a bit with the swelling, but I’m not sure how long it will take to go away.” He wiped his hands on his jacket and straightened up. “I’ll go tell the Captain that you’re up.”
“Wait a moment, will you? I want to finish this toast,” I said, and stuffed the last of it into my mouth, swallowing a huge gulp of tea to chase it down. I swigged the rest of the tea while Smee watched, and then he took the mug and plate away with him. I sat on the edge of the bed, my knees held to my chest, and waited. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

Hook appeared several minutes later. He was dressed in his trousers, boots, and linen shirt, his hair loose down his back. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom for a moment and then he came to stand in front of me, his good hand under my chin.
“Let me look,” he said in a low tone. “Tsk-tsk, that looks nasty.” I twisted my head away from his grasp and he let his hand fall to his side. “Well.” He turned around and walked to the armchair, where he sat, his legs crossed, his arms at his sides. “We appear to be at an impasse. And I would like to remind you that had you complied with my requests, this would never have happened.”
“You hit me,” I whispered.
“So I did. You bit me,” he snapped. He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal two very red sets of tooth marks. “You drew blood.”
“You were raping me!” I snapped in return, tears rapidly rising to my eyes.
“You are mine to take when and how I wish,” he countered. “You knew that.” He covered up the bite marks and tilted his head to one side. “Or do you still believe yourself to be free?”
“How can you be so cruel?” I whimpered, sick to my stomach with both him and myself. How weak could I be? How low was I going to have to sink?
“I’m a pirate, my dear. I can be much crueller than you can imagine. I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said, rubbing his hook on the arm of the chair. He flicked a bit of fluff off the knee of his trousers. “I want information from you. And unless you tell me what I want to know, you will find out exactly how cruel I can be.” I didn’t answer him, but merely looked down at the floor, tears running freely down my nose. He got up from his chair and came to sit down next to me on the bed. “I’m not hard-hearted, you know. I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said. He brushed my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. “But you pushed me. You made me do this to you. If you would just remember your place…” He took my chin in his hand and turned my face to look at him. “You drive me mad. Why won’t you just tell me what I want to know? Things would be so much pleasanter for you.” He leaned in and kissed me gently. My head reeled. How could he say such things? Didn’t he know how much he’d hurt me? How could he be so vicious one minute and then almost loving the next? Was this how a woman who lived with an abusive boyfriend felt? This confused? His tongue slid between my swollen lips and darted around the corners of my mouth. I didn’t know what to do. So I didn’t do anything. I just sat there, unmoving, and let him kiss him without responding. And that made him angry. He stood up, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “There is just no pleasing you! You’re impossible! Women! You’re all maddening creatures!” he exclaimed. He threw himself back down into the armchair and glowered at me. “What is it you want from me? Why do I feel like this about you?”
“Wait? What?” I said, but just at that moment, Smee ran into the room.
“Captain! Pan’s been sighted at the Mermaid’s Cove!” he shouted, his cheeks red with excitement. “Should I tell the men to pack up and get ready to go back to the ship?”
“No. I’m not done here,” Hook said peevishly, still glaring at me. Smee drew his breath in sharply.
“We’re not going after Pan, Captain?” he asked, shocked.
“I said, I’m not done here. We’ll pursue Peter Pan when I’m ready and not a minute before,” Hook said, brandishing his hook at Smee. Smee stepped back.
“It’s just… going after Pan is what you do, y’see? Can you break the narrative that way?” Smee asked and Hook frowned.
“I… I don’t know,” he said slowly.

I was just as confused as the two of them, but probably for a different reason. I knew that Hook had spent the last hundred years or so chasing after Peter Pan and dodging the crocodile, but wasn’t sure what exactly it meant that for the first time, he was choosing not to follow his story arc. It also reminded me, once again, that I was dealing with a fictional character, not a real, live human being. Although how the two things differed realistically, I wasn’t sure. After all, Hook was certainly able to hurt me, something a fictional character had never done before. Hook and Smee stood looking at each other, confused, for a moment more.
“You’ve never refused to go after Pan before Captain. And there have been other female captives in your life,” Smee said. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss,” he added, as if I was likely offended that Hook had other women captives in his life.
“Hey, no problem,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“Shut up! Both of you! I need to think,” Hook said, his good hand over his eyes.
“Yes Captain,” Smee said. Hook glared up at him from the armchair.
“Smee?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Go find something else to do. I can’t think with you standing there watching me!” Hook roared. Smee jumped and ran out of the room. Then Hook turned to me. “This is all your fault. Somehow it’s all your fault. It’s all about you,” he hissed. He glared at me some more. “You’re different. You’re different than any of the other women I’ve taken captive before.” He came back over to the bed and sat down next to me again. “I need to think…” He pushed me gently down onto the bed, lying down with his head next to my chest. The fingers of his good hand drew little circles around my nipple for a moment and then he took my nipple into his mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue before sucking on it gently. His hand slid down between my thighs to rest on my pubis. I sighed. Not again. I didn’t think I could deal with this again, not after last night. But he didn’t go any further; he just stayed like that, sucking idly on one nipple, his hand cupping my pudendum. I guess that’s what he needed in order to think.

And think he did. We stayed like that, while he thought things through, for almost three hours. Oh, he shifted positions and nipples; he even changed what he was doing and simply rested his head against my breasts. He seemed to merely desire the closeness of physical, intimate contact. Finally, he appeared to come to some kind of impasse, or maybe even a decision. At that point, he changed tactics completely and bent his head to my clit, just as he had the night before. I had been so completely pacified by his gentleness that I just let him do as he pleased. Unlike the night before, however, he was the gentlest he had ever been with me. He didn’t just fuck me—he made love to me and it was bizarre. I mean, it felt amazing, but it was almost more confusing in some ways than anything else he’d done to me. He licked me gently, exploring my inner folds more completely than he had ever done before. When I came, he didn’t enter me right away, but held me, licking and sucking at my nipples for a bit longer before kissing me. His lips were soft, not demanding but giving, and I almost burst into tears again, I was so confused. Then he stood and stripped, slowly, his eyes on me the whole time. When he was naked, he lay slowly on top of me, kissing me as he entered me, just as slowly and gently as he’d done everything else. His thrusts were slow but steady, and he kissed my face and neck as his cock slid in and out of me. Finally, I came, the orgasm slow to build but white hot when it hit. I clutched at him as I came and he kissed me, capturing my cries in his mouth. Then he came with a final thrust. He held himself above me, still kissing me, and when his eyes met mine, it was obvious from his clear blue eyes that he was as confused about what was happening as I was.

He lay next to me for a while, assuming his favourite position with his mouth on my nipple, the release of his orgasm at war with confusion on his face. I was too blissed out to think properly; my hand snaked up of its own accord and I began stroking his hair. He sighed and closed his eyes. The strange quiet of the moment was broken by Smee, who entered the cave tentatively.
“Um… Captain?” he said. Hook’s eyes flew open and he sat up.
“Smee? I trust you have a good reason for this interruption,” Hook said.
“There’s a small matter that requires your attention, Captain. Cook is asking for you,” Smee said apologetically.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Hook said with a sigh. Smee withdrew. Hook looked at me, his hand once again going to my face. He tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. “I don’t understand any of this. I am Captain Hook. I don’t feel such things—for anyone. But I will discover what this all means, my dear. And please,” he said, one finger lightly touching my swollen right eye, “don’t ever make me angry like that again. Surprisingly, I don’t enjoy hurting you.” Then he kissed me on the lips, a long, deep kiss with plenty of tongue, before he stood up, got dressed, and left the bedroom.
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By Hook or By Crook