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Hook's Wendy	By : MarianTheBlackadder Category: M through R > Peter Pan > AU/AR Views: 4195 -:- 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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James sat down in his chair taking out his own journal and a quill, taking a breath before he began to write.

“Several days have passed since the incident. Caitlin has not spoken one word, nor raised her eyes to look at me. There is hardly cause to blame her, for I find myself unable to gaze into her eyes for very long. At night she has returned to staying in the small room I had commissioned to be built when we were first married. The one night I tried to seek her out, I found she had devised a way to prevent the door being opened from my side. There is no doubt in my mind she is afraid of me.

I feel it is necessary to recount the events of that night with as much detail and as clearly as I can conjure. It must be written down so I may read it every day and never forget what horrors I am capable of when the beast inside my heart that gnaws at my soul is set free; if for no other’s sake than Caitlin’s.

I had just convinced her to come out of the Cabin and spend the daylight hours on the deck by my side. She had been locked away since we returned to ship and unwilling to leave the safety of our bedchambers, afraid for what actions awaited her next in this dreadful land. Unfortunately our outing was cut short when a voice, from one of the idiotic members of my crew, rang out loud and clear assuming that I was hurting my own bride. I fear I acted incorrectly. When Caitlin should have come first, it was my station that took the lead in my actions.”

James paused a moment taking another deep breath, having to remind himself to take in air with each word he printed on the parchment. He had not even gotten to the whole of neither the day nor the events that led up to Caitlin’s self-inflicted solitary confinement. Dipping the quill again he forced himself to continue.

“Once we returned inside of my cabin, . . . .” James paused and crossed out those words dipping his quill to begin again. “Aside from my better judgment, I approached my already traumatized wife intending to force her into understand about why I had to act a certain way in front of the crew. I should not have handled her as roughly as I did. Already Smee, the ships surgeon, and even the small boy whom she had cared so much about had betrayed her. How was she to tell the difference between them and myself? I do not fault her for her actions; I fault myself for them.”

He paused yet again, stalling not wanting to remember anything that followed, but he had to. He must, for Caitlin. Turning the page he dipped the quill again.

“Her resistance to what I requested of her seemed to awake the most evil demon inside of my heart, I fought it for all I could until the breaking point. I begged her to come to me, yet her heart told her it was foolhardy to believe or trust anyone enough to get close to them again. She turned to move away, and I found my hand grabbing her wrist and throwing her down to the floor. These actions only proved her belief that she was right in not trusting me, hence the reason she will not leave her door unlocked nor come out of the room once darkness sets in.” He stopped again hearing movement in Caitlin’s small compartment, letting him know she was awake if only for a brief moment. After several seconds it went quiet again.

“It was as if I was forced to step back and watch myself, unable to stop or control anything that went on. Caitlin scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could trying to crawl away, but my boot found its way to her backside shoving her forward causing her to fall to the ground a second time. My strong willed wife got to her knees to try and move away again, but I reached down jerking her to her feet. I can still remember looking into her eyes, seeing the questioning and the fear. But I just smirked and kissed her mercilessly, feeling a thrill go down my spine at her scream that flooded into my mouth at this.

She cried out feeling my hook pressing into the soft flesh of her back, and a cruel unfeeling laugh leapt up from deep within me. I saw the tears flow from her eyes and slide slowly down her cheeks, yet it did not stop nor hinder my actions. Instead it only encouraged them. I threw her again towards my desk. She caught herself upon it, only to find my hand pressing down on the back of her neck forcing her to lie face down against the hard surface. I heard her cry out again in fear as my hook shredded her clothing, right down to the skin letting the bits and pieces of material fall to the ground.”

“I love her. I love her with every fiber of my being.” He wrote in the middle of the page still suffering from guilt and his own ridicule. Dipping his quill he began lower in the page.

“I began to force myself upon her, in a very cruel and unconcerned way. My teeth bit into her skin, my hook pressed into her belly causing her to cry out, anything I could do to make her whimper and cry more, I did. Even with all the things I have done in the course of my life time, this had to be the most disgraceful and diabolical thing I am guilty of. I shall never be able to forgive myself for such an act of barbarism towards the woman who has stolen my heart since the first day I discovered her.”

He retrieved another piece of parchment to continue on with his account.

“I wish I could say that as soon as I was spent my demon stopped there and went dormant once more, yet it did not. Instead I moved to lie across our bed, smoking a fine cigar, content to stare at this quivering mass of woman who had been violated by her own husband. Not exactly the welcome home she should have been given after the horrid things she went through on the island. Fighting with everything in her to get back here to the ship, and for what? For such torture from the last one she trusted?

I laid in silence just watching her sit on the floor, her arms crossed over her chest trying to hide herself and her eyes turned away from me; afraid to move, feeling ashamed and terribly humiliated. Once I had finished my cigar, I crushed it out “Come here.” I demanded. Deep within I wanted to leave her alone, if I could have kept control of myself I would have left her in the cabin and gone out on deck, anything to give her relief from this nightmare.

“No.” Was the only word that came from her? It was extremely quiet, yet held all the defiance in the world. Even now after what had transpired, she still had the heart to fight back. My eyes shifted upwards as I could feel them start to glow again, and I stood up from the bed walking over to her. I looked down at her for a moment but she refused to acknowledge or look at me. I kneeled down in front of her pressing my hook into her jaw forcing her to look at me. “Get up.” I said coldly, pressing my hook upwards into her jaw causing her to stand to avoid getting her throat cut.”

James gave a sigh and his hand started to shake and would not stop. He dropped his quill and shoved the papers aside, unable to continue. Reaching up he covered his eyes with his hand never more disgusted and at a lost for his behavior then he was right now. The temptation to dive into a bottle was almost to overwhelming for him to endure.

A few days later, Caitlin sat in her room on the floor, her journal on her lap and a quill in hand as a pot of ink sat on the floor near her.

“I’ve been wanting to write in these pages for the last couple of days, but I was unable to retrieve my journal until just yesterday when Captain Hook went out on deck for a while. I’m not sure how I feel exactly. I wish I could explain what transpired between us, but I would rather it be forgotten like it never happened.” Cat stopped starring at the page for a moment before dipping her quill again.

“If nothing else, at least it was my husband, and not some stranger whom intended never to see me again. Although now . . . when I see myself in the mirror I wonder. I wonder if there is just something about me, something I was born with that makes men act so strangely around me, and fight over me like I was some sort of raw meat thrown into a pit of dogs.” Reaching up she ran her fingers over a wound that had been cut into her chin, recalling how it had occurred. Writing was her freedom, it freed her mind of the thoughts and feelings it held and unburdened her heart. She began to recount the occurrence.

“After the first attack, he rested for a while. I remember the smell of his cigar that he never before smoked inside the cabin out of curtsey for me. All the feelings that ran through my heart left me sitting in the middle of the floor, unable to cover myself or to try and run. Anger, shock, humiliation, scorn, resentment, spite, sorrow, despair, loneliness. All of them mixed together and trading spaces seemed to leave me as helpless as a kitten. I hate that feeling, I’ve had it before.”

Giving a sigh she touched her jaw again before dipping the quill in the ink yet again.

“After some time, he crushed out his cigar and called to me, to come to him. Before I could stop myself or think, I said “No”. Loud and clear wanting to keep whatever dignity and will I had left. It has always been a response I’ve had, not to make people force me into doing what they wanted, I have always wanted the right to decide for myself. . . . .” She furrowed her brow for a second realizing something, “At least, I think I’ve always wanted that, and responded that way.” Shaking her head she continued on.

“The next thing I new, his sharp iron hook was thrust hard into my jaw and I heard him speak “Get up.”. My eyes shifted upwards towards him and I looked into those dark, glowing red eyes that seemed to hold a completely different person then James all together. Even now, I cannot believe that it was James. I know it was his body, his hook, his voice . . . but somehow it was not him. Looking back now, I think it would have been easier for me had I just stood and walked to him when he first commanded it.”

Leaning back against the wall she wasn’t sure if she could continue writing, and she closed her eyes tight a moment. Perhaps she should, get everything she thought and felt out on paper now so she could try to understand everything that happened. Not long after, she began to write again.

“My clothes were long since gone, and I was completely bare accept for the cloth I wore over my head. There was nothing else for him to get a good grip on except my neck and I felt his fingers wrap tight around my throat. He pulled me across the room and threw me down onto the leaning couch and . . . . .” She paused for a moment not wanting the exact details written out clearly so they would never be forgotten or leave her mind like she wanted them to. “. . . and he assaulted me once again.”

She took a moment to get up and move her things over to the bed, so she could sit on that rather then remaining on the cold floor. It was a small room and there was very little space, but something about it made her fell secure. Putting the pot of ink where it wouldn’t spill, she opened the cap and continued to write.

“It happened many more times, in many different ways I . . .never even imagined were possible. I do not wish to go into greater detail nor describe each occurrence for even now my heart aches to replay the images in my mind.” Putting her quill down for a moment she wiped the tears from her eyes taking a breath trying to calm herself down.

“Finally, he fell hard into sleep exhausted from all of his efforts through the dark hours of the night and I took this chance to hide myself in this room and this is where I have been ever since. I keep the door locked and bolted at night to keep myself safe, not wanting this to happen again. At first I was angry, and wanted nothing to do with him. I suppose anger was only half of what I was feeling, I was also afraid. Yet the past few nights I have heard sounds from the other side of my door that sounded like weeping. Heartbroken weeping that turned my heart and stomach. The past few nights I’ve heard an even more disturbing sound. The crack of leather straps that even I recognize to be a Cat O’ nine tails. I have not dared to look, lest The Captain is taking out his anger on one of the other crewmen, and it was to difficult to bring myself to look upon such a scene with my own eyes. Tonight, if I hear these sounds again, I have resolved myself to look. I must see what is going on, and what is happening to this man I have pledged strange vows to, and whose name I wear.”

“I cannot even begin to describe the range of feelings deep inside of me. All I wanted while I was captive and lost on that island was to find my way back to James. To see his face again and to be held in his caring arms. I tried so many different things to get back to him that only ended in sickness and failure, but at last I opened my eyes and there he was. Come to take me home to his ship and keep me safe once more.”

Caitlin paused a moment just starring at her page, discovering something she had not honestly expect to be there. “Perhaps, it is this reason, I do not hate him for what happened . . . nor do I think . . . I can resent him for anything. I suppose there are many who would call me a fool for such a thing, but there have been more good times and things that he has done for me, then the bad things that come about between us. He saved me from those boys, and I know he went through a lot thinking I was dead for those two weeks I was taken away. I cannot believe that this was why he wanted me returned to the ship.” With her last thought, she put the lid on the pot of ink, moved the quill to lie next to it on the table, and closed her journal putting them with her writing tools.

Scooting back, she lie down in her bed and lay awake wondering what on earth was to be done now. Slowly her eyes closed and she fell into a restless sleep. Hours went by and the sun had gone down when she was suddenly awoken from her slumber with that same familiar sound she had come to know from each night gone past. She couldn’t say she was not terrified, but she had to see. Something deep inside was telling her that she must. Slowly she rose from her bed and walked to the door, pulling the boards and mechanism she had devised to make it impossible to open the door from the inside or outside unless it was removed from the door.

Her hand jumped away from the last latch and pulled away as she heard that familiar sound of leather cracking across human flesh. Cat started to take a step back but she caught herself, and forced herself to continue on with this. Pulling the last pin, she put it aside and opened the door as slowly as she could so as not to make a sound. It was dark in the room, and it seemed like only one candelabrum had been lit. Swallowing the lump in her throat she took another step out trying to see anyone else in the cabin. She jumped hearing yet another crack of the whip followed by a groan of pain that was held back by a definite jaw.

Caitlin could feel her entire body twitching to just run back into her shelter and throw the locks on the door, content to never come out again to hide like a turtle in her shell. However she was just as stubborn and clinched her teeth together forcing herself onward. She froze in place at the sight she beheld; feeling like it was another nightmare she had stepped into.

There was only one other in the cabin besides herself, and it was James. James and no other. He was shirtless and Hookless, on his knees in the middle of the floor like someone who was accepting a punishment for his crimes. Her eyes went wide as she saw his one good hand holding onto the handle of the whip and the stripes across his own back. Before she could bring herself together enough to form words, he swung the whip over his shoulder administering another painful strike to his own body as his back shifted away from it and a grunt of pain came.

Caitlin shook her head at this, it had to stop. Nothing he had done was worth this. He started to move to strike himself again but Caitlin cried out “No, STOP!” She ran to him grabbing his hand and falling onto her knees before him, refusing to let him continue with this self-torture. She grasped his wrist tight between her two hands looking up at him, in disbelief that he would do this to himself. “What are you doing!?! Stop this, stop it this very instant!” She said trying to wrestle the whip free from his hand.

Hook looked into her eyes, amazed at this sudden turn of events, perhaps he had passed out again and this was a dream “Caitlin, I deserve this and 20 times more for what I have done to you.” He said not releasing the whip. Cat shook her head at his words, enough was quite enough.

“STOP IT! Nothing you have done deserves this, NOTHING.” When she found he would not release it, she wrapped her other hand around the nine leather straps that hung from the handle to keep him from continuing on. James looked in her eyes and started to try and pull his hand away from her.

“Have you any idea . . . of the thing that has been done to you here? It could happen again Caitlin, it could happen countless times and I would be unable to control this beast that rages within me. It must be kept locked away, and the only way it can be punished for what it has done . . . is if I am punished.” Cat grit her teeth together and jerked the whip clean out of his hands throwing it with all of her might across the room. Her hands looked down feeling something wet on her skin, and frowned finding her hand had been stained with his red crimson blood that was no doubt adorning his back.

She saw James starting to move but she quickly reached up and grasped his face making her look at him. It took her a few minutes to find words to say, and James couldn’t turn his eyes away from hers. Something they had not been able to do since that night of terror. “I am your wife James. We are married.” She began, her eyes looking deeper into his. “I have known for a while that there is more then one person behind those eyes when they look at me. I know there are extremes of your soul, from the most evil and wretched hateful creature . . . .” His eyes started to shift feeling as if he could not look at her with her words, but she held fast to his face keeping her eyes locked with his.

“. . . to the kindest, most caring, and loving soul I have ever known in my life.” His eyes softened into a look of shock at the gentle tone of her voice. Feeling as if he wouldn’t try to turn away she loosened her grip and tenderly ran her thumbs over his jaw. “There are different wedding vow’s that I believe we should have said. I believe they go something like . . . for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse . . .” This was harder for her then anything she had ever done before in her life. But something had to put a stop between all of these things; otherwise the rest of their lives would be unpleasant and awkward and their marriage pointless. She did want to care for him and ease his suffering however she could, even after what had happened. Even though on the inside she was torn apart and shaken beyond all reprieve.

“This is just worse James. It doesn’t happen every night, and we have had some wonderful times together. I don’t think . . . that the one occurrence like this, should outweigh all the kindness you’ve shown me and how much you have cared for me since you brought me here.” Hook closed his eyes and sighed resting his forehead against hers.

“ . . . Caitlin . . .” He breathed, the feeling of his not deserving her had just doubled with her words of forgiveness. Her fingers continued to caress his face as she tried to comfort him, anything to make him stop this madness.

“I won’t lie to you and say that I’m not afraid.” She said gently and looked into his eyes as they opened and gazed into her face. “But I say, I am not one to give up . . . and I don’t wish for you to give up either.” Reaching up with his one and only good hand, he ran his fingers over her cheek and to rest against the side of her face over the cloth that covered her hair.

Pulling back so he could look down into her eyes he took a breath, just caressing her face carefully. “You are the strongest woman in heart I have ever known Caitlin. You deserve better then this.” He said, as he still had not forgiven himself for what he had done.

Caitlin could see this and reached up placing her hand over his turning her face carefully into his hand keeping her eyes on him. “I am where I belong James. I am here, with you. I do not think I belong anywhere else, with anyone else. You are the one I was meant to be with.” They both just stayed there on their knees on the floor for a while, looking into each others eyes.

Although neither one spoke of it out loud, both of them seemed to feel as if they were meant to be together somehow. Everything and every creature in this world tried to tear them apart and prove that they did not belong together. However it was this that seemed to cement their destiny.
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Hook's Wendy