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Not Old, Alone, Or Done For	By : onecelestialbeing Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 9405 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Peter Pan, books, movies or any of its characters, and make no money from this story.

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The next morning Wendy was barely able to eat more than a scant morsel as she sat with her aunt, awaiting Gavin's arrival. Aunt Millicent had made sure that Wendy had put on her corset and for good measure had pulled the laces tighter than she was accustomed to, making it hard to breath or even speak without having to take in small amounts of air. Her hair was pulled back into its usual knot, held into place with many hairpins that managed to poke Wendy in the scalp whenever she turned her head. She felt itchy and uncomfortable yet her Aunt Millicent cooed over how grown up and ladylike she looked, repeatedly saying that she knew Gavin would approve of her appearance.

John and Michael were also sitting at the table, wanting to see Wendy off on her small trip with Gavin. When the carriage finally arrived, Aunt Millicent walked arm in arm with Wendy to the door. "Now dear, please remember to be a lady. Hold your tongue when in doubt and don't do anything to anger him."

"Yes Aunt Millicent," Wendy answered meekly. After hugging her aunt and brothers goodbye, Gavin took Wendy gently by the arm and led her to the carriage. "Where are Sir and Lady Benett?" she asked, noticing their absence.

"They'll be meeting us," Gavin replied without offering further explanation.

Remembering what her aunt said, Wendy nodded and declined to ask anything else. The ride was a lengthy one, made more uncomfortable by the bumpy road as the horse hastily made its way through the abandoned town. The skies had grown increasingly dreary over the past half hour, and rain was now beating down upon the carriage. 'So much for a pleasant stay in the country,' Wendy thought to herself looking at the dark, ominous sky.

After what seemed like an eternity, the carriage finally stopped. "Give us a second," Gavin called out to the driver. He then took Wendy's hand and looked her directly in the eye. "You know Wendy, to be honest I could care less if you love me, or even if you grow to love me," he told her as his green eyes glinted coldly.

"Pardon?" Wendy asked shocked at what she was hearing. "Then why did you ask me to marry you?"

"Silly girl," he patronized. "Do you really think anyone marries for love? You really are a child at heart, aren't you? No matter. The only way I can access your inheritance, which is quite generous as I've been told, is if we marry as soon as possible. Now, my father has run into a bit of trouble, nothing you need worry your pretty little head about, but we will need that money soon."

"I don't believe you," Wendy whispered disgustedly, wrenching her hand out of his grasp.

"Believe this," Gavin hissed, his fingers wrapping tightly about her wrist. "You are going to have a little rest, just like I promised your aunt. And when you leave, you will do exactly as I say or I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?"

Yanking free from his hold, Wendy stared at Gavin with pure unadulterated hatred in her eyes. "I'd sooner drown myself than marry you," she spat.

Gavin shrugged and looked rather unconcerned. "Suit yourself," he replied nonchalantly. "Driver, come get the door," he ordered rapping his knuckles on the carriage's doorframe. "You can remain here as long as I need you to, but mark my words young Wendy, by hook or crook you will marry me and what's mine is mine and what's yours is…well mine. And I will take what is to be mine."

At that moment the door of the carriage was thrust open, the wind blowing some of the falling rain inside and wetting the side of Wendy's face. Gavin pushed her out of the carriage first ('so much for chivalry,' she thought to herself as she nearly toppled facedown into the mud) and then climbed out. Grabbing Wendy by the cuff of her arm, he led her to a dingy gray and depressed looking building.

At a loss for words, Wendy stumbled along until they reached the front door. Gavin insistently rapped the knocked upon the door until it opened, revealing a portly woman wearing a stark white nurse's uniform on the other side. "Ah, Mr. Benett, we've been expecting you and the missus," she said warmly, ushering them inside.

Her eyes growing wide with fear and confusion, Wendy knew she had no choice but to go inside. There was a large body of water on the other side of the building and her only method of leaving was swimming, flying or by carriage and she didn't even know where she was exactly.

"Miss Darling is it?" the nurse continued. "They told us you're in dire need of a bit of rest. Not to worry, we'll have you back to normal in no time."

"R-rest? But I feel fine," Wendy stammered.

"She says that now," Gavin interjected, his voice dripping with false warmth. "But it was just yesterday that she was in a right fit of hysterics."

"Now now dear, there'll be no more of that," the lady continued. "We'll just get you settled in your room. You'll be back home with your handsome young man before you know it."

Flanked by Gavin on her right and who she found out was Nurse Bridgette on her left, they firmly held Wendy by the cuff of her arms and led her down a long corridor. Wendy was on the verge of asking what kind of place they were in when gut wrenching screams from behind a closed and most likely locked door split the air. The noise startled her, and Gavin also as she felt him flinch but Nurse Bridgette kept on walking and talking as if nothing happened.

"Oh that's poor old Mr. Murphy. The bloke gets like that from time to time, we just keep him locked in his room till he tuckers himself out," she said.

"What? What sort of place is this?" Wendy demanded, unaware that she was now slightly pulling away from her two captors.

"A place for people to have a rest, in your case young women that have a chronic case of hysteria," the nurse replied nonchalantly.

"An asylum?" she shrieked, putting more effort into pulling away from the two. "Gavin, you cannot be this cruel. Does my aunt know where you've taken me?"

All the while Gavin's grip had become ironclad around her arm, and moments later they arrived at what was to be Wendy's room for the duration of her stay. Nurse Bridgette pulled a ring of keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door and ushered the two inside. "I'll wait for you out here," she told Gavin, blind to the fact that his fingers were biting sharply into the young woman's flesh and most likely leaving a mark behind.

The room was small but clean, with a single bed, one dresser on which sat what looked like a plain day dress and a white cotton nightgown, slippers and a Bible. There were no candles or lamps anywhere; it must have been assumed that the light from the sun or moon pouring in through the one small high window would be sufficient.

"Gavin, please!" Wendy cried after he roughly shoved her to sit down on the bed. "I'll stop telling stories, I'll be a proper woman, just don't leave me here!"

Shrewdly looking at the Wendy's face which was slick with tears, Gavin said nothing and walked over to the bedroom door. After he knocked on it there came the sound of keys jangling as Nurse Bridgette unlocked the door and walked inside.

"Oh sir, just a moment," the woman said as she walked over to the bed. Standing next to Wendy, she dug her fingers into her hair and pulled out every hairpin and handed them to Gavin. Wendy fought back sobs as she felt her curls come undone and fall down her back in a heavy curtain. "Can't have anything she might try to stick herself with."

Gavin put the discarded hairpins in his inner jacket pocket and then briefly appraised the grief-stricken girl on the bed. "Make sure you keep her corsets laced tightly, especially at night. I don't want to return to a cow for a wife."

Without another word the callous man turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Wendy to the care of Nurse Bridgette. All of the fight had left her body, and all Wendy found herself able to do was cry as the elderly woman spoke to her in a kind but firm tone. She let the girl keep her traveling dress on but told her that she would be confined to her room for a few hours until the doctor was in. The nurse then left the room and as soon as Wendy heard the lock turn she curled up as much as the tight corset would allow her to and continued to cry for the next half hour.

Life was cruel and unfair. First she'd lost her parents and all she had was her siblings and her aunt. Peter had always promised he would return for spring cleaning, but being the forgetful child that he was, he never remembered. Of course the one time when Wendy needed him the most, he wasn't around. Now someone that was supposed to be her future husband had all of the say so and turned her life upside down. If this was what growing up entailed, Wendy wished that she could turn back the hands of time.

The days and nights passed and seemed to blend into an endless blur. Wendy was unable to keep track of time as she was not permitted to have even a clock in her room. She'd been summoned and fetched to see doctors and experts all of whom got exceedingly angry when her when she refused to speak to them. Elderly overgrown children in too small waistcoats puffing away on a pipe, blowing smoke in her face when they couldn't have their way was how Wendy viewed them. Despite the fact that the Darling girl wasn't one of the troublemakers, the staff soon lost their patience with their strange patient and relegated her to the stark solitude of her room.

Wendy tried pleading and cajoling even to have just one little book to keep her company, to which one of the pompous physicians balked at, saying her Bible was the only book she needed and besides, that other nonsense she'd filled her head with was the reason she was there in the first place. So, after the night nurses made their rounds, going door to door of each charge's room to deliver a potent foul-tasting white powder that sent its taker to sleep after a few minutes, Wendy would lie down in her bed and stare at the dark shadows on the walls cast in by the moon.

Every night Wendy would make up a new story in her head, the made up characters the only company she had. On more than one occasion a pair of forget-me-not blue eyes made its way into her stories, but the medicine overtook her and instantly would send her into a deep sleep and when she woke up in the morning, she would never remember.

Due to the crafty work of the doctors whom were set on "fixing" Wendy, they'd manage to convince her that her stories were just that; stories that were never real and would never be real. However, deep down in her subconscious thoughts, Wendy fought to keep her memories of her childhood dreams alive.
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Not Old, Alone, Or Done For