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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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The characters created by J. M. Barrie are not mine; I don’t own them and I’m not making any money off of them. The characters that were not created by J. M. Barrie in this fic *are* mine, and I do own them—but I’m still not making any money off of them. Figures.
Warning: A small amount of non-con here, but nothing compared to what’s coming up in future chapters.

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

Chapter Twenty-Four: Back in Neverland

I was so incredibly shocked to be back in Neverland, that I didn’t notice at first where I’d landed. As I knelt on the ground, trying hard not to puke or pass out, I began to take in a few details of my surroundings. The floor I knelt on was stone, cold, hard stone, but it wasn’t smooth. I glanced up and could see that there had been, at some point, huge stone walls on all four sides, but only three mostly crumbled walls remained. There was no longer a roof to this building. At the far end of the building was a raised dais of some kind, with a round stone bowl at the top of it.
“This was a temple millennia ago,” Hook said conversationally, as he suddenly appeared at my side. The bright light that surrounded him disappeared just as suddenly as he’d appeared ,and we were plunged into the semi-gloom of the jungle. I could hear birds calling from the canopy above me. “If you look up at the altar, you can see the bowl in which the high priests used to roast the still-beating hearts of their virgin sacrifices.” He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back sharply.
“Ow! Stop!” I shrieked but he just laughed.
“Look at the altar, Cassandra. You can see where the blood used to run down from the dais, where centuries of victims were murdered for their hearts, all in the name of religion,” Hook continued, his face now in mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. “Neverland is not a nice place, Cassandra. Never has been, never will be.” He let go of my hair, shoving my face back down towards the floor. My forehead struck stone, hard, and I saw stars. My hands and knees gave out abruptly; I collapsed onto my side as I passed out, finally giving in to the desire for sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

When I awoke, I was lying on the floor of Hook’s litter, Hook on the seat just above me. We were travelling fairly quickly through the jungle, four pirates carrying us at a jog through the trees. The motion made me nauseated and I swallowed, my eyes closed, trying desperately not to throw up.
“Ah, I see you’re awake, my dear,” Hook said. “Try not to vomit inside the litter, there’s a good girl.” There was a faint tinkling noise to his left and he turned to look. “Damn fairies. What do you want now?”
“Fairies?” I murmured.
“I needed fairy dust to get between the worlds. I had Smee catch me a dozen or so when we started this venture, and I’ve been keeping them in a cage ever since. Damn nuisance, if you ask me,” Hook said, rattling the cage and knocking the fairies right and left. Fairy dust sprayed everywhere, making the litter gleam and shimmer inside. “It took me two whole weeks to find a way into your world, my dear. Two. But I managed it. I am Captain James Hook, after all.”
“Why?” I whispered, looking at him with tears in my eyes. “Why did you come after me?”
“I said I would and a pirate always keeps his word,” he stated firmly. His eyes narrowed for a moment in thought. “Well, unless he doesn’t, I suppose. But that’s neither here nor there. You are my captive once again, Miss Mann, and this time I’m not letting you go.”
“Mrs,” I said, my voice wavering as I thought about Jason lying dead on the sidewalk in front of Le Paradis.
“You don’t really expect me to believe you married that man, do you? A woman like you? Women like you don’t marry men like that. You don’t marry at all! You lead us on and you play with our feelings and when you’re done, you leave us high and dry,” Hook said. He grabbed my hair again and pulled me up by it. I screamed in pain but he didn’t care. “Betrayal and pain, that’s all you’re good for. Treason. Mutiny. But I won’t have it. I won’t. You will come back to me, you will be my Wendy, you will stay by Lucifer! You will!” he roared in my face. I flinched back, trying to get away from his rage, but it was no use. His hand in my hair held me fast. Then he surprised me. He let go of my hair abruptly, grasping my head with his good hand instead, and he kissed me, hard. His tongue thrust between my surprised lips, his teeth pulled and bit at my lower lip, and when he pulled away, he bit me hard enough to draw blood.

“Ow! Fuck! Fuck you!” I yelled, pushing at his chest. He slapped me across the face, sending me backwards into the litter. My cheek stung and I burst into tears once again. He drew his hook down the side of my face, across the stinging flesh of my cheek and then down to the collar of the winter coat I wore. His hook slid across and sliced away the buttons from my coat, pushing the heavy fabric aside, to reveal the silk blouse I wore underneath.
“Such beautiful fabric, my dear. Your so-called husband certainly must have had money, to keep you in such elegant style,” Hook murmured to me. He slid forward to caress the fabric of my blouse, and then with both hook and hand, ripped my blouse wide open, the buttons flying out the open window of the litter. My chest heaved as I sobbed. I tried to stop him, but was horrified to find myself helpless, my hands batting uselessly against his arms as his hook descended once again and sliced my bra open.
“No, don’t… stop, please,” I sobbed, unable to catch my breath. I couldn’t breathe any more, the terror I felt overwhelming me, but I didn’t want to pass out again. It was mortifying to faint so much, as if I were some precious helpless woman in a trashy romance novel. But I couldn’t seem to help myself, and as my lungs cried out for air, the blackness crashed over me once again, and I was down for the count.

When I came to the movement of the litter had ceased. I opened my tear-swollen eyes just a bit, the roof of the litter fuzzy above my head. I was cold and couldn’t figure out why. I hugged my arms to me, trying to wrap my covers about me… no, my clothing… where the hell was my clothing? I tried to sit up, but my head was pounding, so I slid back down again onto the floor of the litter. I was completely naked, the clothing I’d been wearing when Jason and I had gone to dinner nowhere to be found. I groaned, trying to curl into as small a ball as possible. Hook. What the fuck had I ever done to deserve this? Just as I was trying to get my life back together… No, just as I had got my life back together, Hook comes back into it and fucks it all up again. I didn’t know if I was up to another round of this. Then I remembered Jason and pain welled up in my throat. He was dead. Hook had killed him. I didn’t want to live without him. I couldn’t live without him. Maybe it would be better if I just let Hook do whatever he wanted to me. He could kill me for all I cared. A sob escaped my lips at that thought.
“Ah, you’re awake again,” Hook said, poking his face through the open window of the litter. “Good. Up you get.”
“No.”
“I will not be disobeyed. Get. Up,” he hissed at me, his hook in my face. He grabbed my wrist with his good hand, and, opening the door, hauled me out of the litter. I stumbled onto the ground, landing heavily on one knee. He hoisted me to my feet. “Now stand there.”

The tears in my eyes were so thick I could barely see. I kept my face turned toward the ground, not wanting to know where I was.
“Put your head up,” Hook commanded. I didn’t move. He slid his hook under my chin, forcing my head up. Smee, an apologetic look on his face, came forward and locked a heavy iron collar around my neck, a thick chain attached to the front of it. Hook held the other end of the chain in his good hand. “Very nice. I hope it chafes.” He turned to Smee. “Very well. I will be in my suite should you need me. Send up my valet with supper at 9. Something with beef would be nice.” He tugged on the chain, a nasty grin on his face. “Come, my dear. We’ve got things to do.” He walked away and I was forced to follow, my hands trying to hold the heavy collar off my neck, where it rubbed the skin away in short order. I tried not to notice the people around us as we walked up the path to the hotel. I was distracted soon enough anyway, by the glass shards on the path that cut my feet and made me cry out. “Oh, yes, the glass. I hope you didn’t forget about the glass. We’ll have to take care of that when we get upstairs. Well, come on.” He tugged on the chain again, and I stumbled forward, falling on my knees again. My hands came up bloody from the path, my knees bleeding in several places when I stood up again.
“Well, this is just too much!” A gentlewoman and her companion stood at the entrance to the hotel, fanning themselves furiously. “The kinds of people they let in here these days.”
“Ladies,” Hook said. He shifted my chain to his hook and removed his hat with his good hand. The ladies just lifted their noses at him and he laughed. “At your service,” he said with a mock bow. Then he tugged on my chain and we went inside.

Once up the stairs and inside his suite (his oh-so-familiar suite), Hook attached my chain to a large iron circle embedded in the wall of the living room. “Sit.” He motioned to the floor and I sank down, grateful to get off my bleeding feet. He took off his frock coat, throwing it over a chair, and strode into the bathroom. I could hear the bath running, and wondered what he had planned for me next. Was he going to drown me in his bathtub? I rested my head on my knees, my chin sliding a bit in the blood that still slowly oozed from the deep cuts there. The water ran for a long time; my eyes slowly closed and I dozed off. I was exhausted from being terrified, from crying, from pain. I didn’t hear when the water shut off. The next thing I knew, I was being lifted up and carried.

“What? What’s going on?” I muttered, trying to wake up. Where was he taking me?
“Hush,” Hook said. He deposited me in the bathtub, chaining me up to another iron circle attached to the bathroom wall. The water was hot, and the bath salts stung in my cuts. I squirmed and tried to get out, but he shoved me back into the water with his good hand. “Stay.” He stood and removed his shirt, hanging it up behind the door. Then he grabbed a bar of soap and threw it to me. “Wash. Or I’ll wash you myself.” I dunked the soap in the water and began to wash myself grudgingly. I knew I needed to wash my cuts or they’d get infected, but I didn’t want to be forced to do anything by Hook. When I’d finished, he knelt by the side of the tub and held out his hand for the soap. “Show me your feet,” he demanded. I held on to the side of the tub, thrusting one foot at a time out of the tub. “Good. Now your knees.” He inspected my knees, picking a small piece of glass out of my right one with his hook and then washing it again. “Your hands.” I showed him my hands and he inspected them carefully. “Wash your face and your hair, and then you may stand up.” I did as he asked, carefully dunking myself under the water to rinse my hair. My mind was racing, wondering what the hell he was up to. Why would he put me through the agony and humiliation of that walk up the path, only to insist I wash afterwards? I touched the sore spots around my neck, the collar still sitting heavily on my skin. Was I going to have to wear this from now on? Was I truly a slave now? I finished rinsing and tried to stand up in the bath, but my feet hurt too much. Hook grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet, my poor, cut up feet. I stepped out of the bathtub, onto the rug. “Here.” He thrust a towel at me and I dried off. I looked at him surreptitiously, noting how much he looked like a wilder version of Jason. How could that be possible? How could Hook and Jason be doppelgangers?

My cuts had begun to bleed freely again, now that I was clean and dry. Hook sat me down on the toilet lid, and began to bandage my cuts with gauze and some kind of antiseptic paste. He didn’t speak as he did it, but made little “tsk-tsk” noises under his breath. Occasionally he hummed a small tune, something I didn’t recognize. When my feet were well wrapped, and my hands and knees bandaged, he drained the tub and pulled me to my feet again. “Come.” He unchained me from the wall, and led me out of the room, towards one of the bedrooms. The bed looked so inviting; I was so tired! “Sit.” He pushed me down onto the bed, chaining me to the wall once again. Then he snapped a manacle around my left ankle and chained me to the bed. Now that I was chained by my ankle, he obviously felt I didn’t need the collar and when it was off, I felt so light I thought my head might fly up to the ceiling. “Sleep,” was his last command, as he slid me between the sheets and left the room, closing the door behind him. And sleep I did. Even if I’d wanted to stay awake, there was no denying the needs of my body and within seconds I was unconscious.
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By Hook or By Crook