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Why swallows build in the eaves of houses	By : redhandedjill Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 8014 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Thank you to all that reviewed! I had to continue on with the story, even though I should have been writing a paper for school, but I have fallen in love with writing this tale.

- R.H. J.

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The ‘happy’ home

Now there be those of you who may be confused at the events leading up to these moments with Wendy's return to Neverland and her capture by Hook. For as we last left Wendy Darling and her adventure to Neverland, had she not grown up into a woman with a young daughter named Jane who would in turn have a daughter named Margaret?

Why of course, that is how Wendy's life did indeed end up. But there was the large course of time between the ages of twelve to thirty which were skimmed over completely. And what kind of author would I be should I keep you from these most life changing events?

They may not hold the same intrigue as those of children's stories, for this is not a child's story at all. Rather it is a grown ups story, for those of us whose inner child yearns to live on.

First I may begin with the Lost Boys, for as we left them they were in London with Wendy and her brothers. They had a home, a mother, and grew to be respected citizens of the world. But of course this is not how it was to be from the start.

They were after all boys. For they did return to Neverland at first light scarcely a month after they'd come to London. They had done this, certain that they despised the thought of growing up and Peter had welcomed them back happily with open arms. It would be many years before they returned to London to begin a grown ups life.

And as for John and Michael, they were good boys with short memories. Why, Michael's mind was easily molded. He had forgotten of his home whilst in Neverland, and when at home soon found his memories of Neverland quite diminished.

He was a happy and contented boy however, and prone to bouts of severe joy when Wendy would steal away from her large room at the end of the hall, to regale her younger siblings with stories of intrigue. But as the years passed, Wendy's stories lessened and Michael and John did not mind as much.

John being more analytical than the younger had faint memories of the land where children don't grow up and pirates and mermaids lodge. But in the years that passed he simply dismissed them as fanciful dreams and wishes in which he must put away should he become respected like his father. John was a boy that longed to be respected and admired.

I would tell you more of Mary and George Darling, but they do not play a large part in this tale so far. As for Nana she on her last legs, lodging in the kennel for her role as a nursemaid was long retired, as the Darling children were children no longer.

There. It would seem that you are caught up with all the important characters of this tale and ready to continue on to the events which would-

Oh wait-

You wish to know what came of those pirates? Smee, Starkley, Bill Jukes and all the like? And how James Hook came to escape the clutches of that damned crocodile? Oh, I wish I could tell you that. But it would be completely inappropriate, and Wendy would be completely furious should she find out. No. I think it best for you to come to the end yourself, without my aid.

And so now I take you, to where our current story left off.

Captain Hook awoke the next morning with a large amount of pain in his shoulders and the back of his neck. He groaned lowly, his blurry eyes vainly trying to become accustomed to the bright morning.

He moved slightly, realizing he was sitting. Sitting in a harsh chair that was currently digging into his lower back. His mind spun as he tried to recall why he was sequestered in his chair.

Worse still, his right shoulder positively ached with a soreness he had not felt in years. His hand rose to rub it, before forgetful fingertips brushed into the familiar harness.

How could he have forgotten?

He'd slept practically fully dressed, with his blasted harness on and in a horribly uncomfortable chair! He hissed slightly in pain as he rubbed the tender skin around it, grimacing visibly.

What had possessed him to go through all this bother?

It was then that his eyes drew to the bed, and a familiar figure brought all of it back to him. Her body was almost entirely covered in his large, crimson colored blankets. Dark curls draped haphazardly around her pale face, thick lashes hiding eyes that he knew he would dream of often, her lips slightly parted in deep slumber.

Wendy Darling was the source of all his pain, and yet he did not find the strength to despise her. No, she was one of the few he had crossed in his life that he could not hate.... not at this moment.

Perhaps it was because she was a girl. A girl that reminded him highly of himself at that age. Learned, despising of societal boundaries, a vast imagination. Yes, surely that was the cause.

He stood shakily then, swallowing thickly and wincing at the taste in his mouth. He moved to the cabinet by his dresser, and opening it he grasped a small case. He removed the sprigs of mint and placed them in his mouth, chewing absently before he felt the slight tingle that went down his throat and tickled his tongue.

Hook went to the small velvet lined case upon the dresser, and opened it completely with a small creak. Glancing at the bed he saw Wendy had not stirred. Good.

He pulled out a similar shaped claw to the one he'd had on yesterday, and heard it lock with a familiar click. He felt more at ease with it on then, as if he were whole once more.

He opened the door to his cabin and then and saw a fresh basin of water already awaiting him and a note that informed him that his previously charred cabin had been mended. Grumbling slightly to himself out of irritated fatigue, he brought it inside and placed it upon the dresser. He glanced at the girl to see she was still sleeping and was glad that she had not yet awoken.

With his good hand he splashed himself with the lukewarm water, washing away the sleep and fatigue of his uneasy night. He grasped the nearby soap and scrubbed his face tenderly, knowing he must be filthy from the fire. Finally he was finished, rinsed and toweled off. He placed the basin outside the door and closed it once more.

He glanced back at the large bed, unsure of how to proceed. He wanted to look at the girl more closely, but was hesitant. If she was to dart awake, he doubted he could stand her shrill screaming.

Then again, it was his ship. She was his for the time being. His to look at, should he feel so inclined. And so with that thought, Hook moved to the edge of the bed quietly. He felt it proper that he clasp his hand behind his back then, since it was just simple observation.

She lay facing upwards, one arm at her side, and the other above her head. He allowed a small grin to pull at his lips from one side in amusement. She was quite entertaining, even in sleep. As Hook stared though, Wendy's lips suddenly more obvious. Pinkish, and full looking. He knew by experience that they were incredibly soft.

What was that?

Hook thought he saw something there, winking at him from the corner of the girl's mouth. At this intrigue, Hook insisted he needed a closer look. He leaned over, looking directly at the corner of the girl's mouth, but saw nothing. Surely his mind was playing tricks on him.

His face was inches above hers then, and he allowed his eyes to shut a moment peacefully. As he inhaled, he could smell his own scent intermingling with hers. It was a musky, yet feminine aroma that tantalized the senses and seemed almost familiar.

Wendy Darling.

Hook wanted to kiss her then, wanted to kiss her until she was breathless, but did not. He refrained completely, not only to show powerful self-restraint, but at the knowledge that to kiss a maiden as she lay asleep was indeed a cowards act. Not only that, Hook mused, it was also most certainly bad form.

Poor Hook. As fate would have it, he was not meant to enjoy this moment further. For had he not let his fancy carry him away, Wendy would not have awoken moments later to the scent of mint, and a familiar pirates lips far too close to her own.

She did not notice that Hook wasn't moving nearer, or that his hand was behind his back. But she did see through her blurry vision, eyes serenely closed, and a mouth that Wendy believed was aching to be kissed.

Hook's eyes flew open as two small hands pushed his chest harshly, causing him to almost trip to the ground.

"You promised!" Wendy bellowed in shock at his actions, and vicious betrayal. Hook looked to the girl agape at what had just happened before his red-hot temper caught up with his realization.

He rushed over to the bed where Wendy was attempting to scramble away. With one furious hand, he grasped her collar and dragged her writhing form over to him. He draped one leg over her own, trapping her underneath him in agitation. Only then when he was certain she was unable to escape, did he cover her mouth with his good hand.

"Keep your voice down, girl!" Hook hissed and raised the claw at the level of the red-faced girls eyes. "I've kept my word. I did not lay a hand upon you."

Wendy shouted something into his palm, surely a threat of insistent of his bad character. Hook did not waver however, for no amount of screaming and squirming would stop him.

How was he to earn her trust if she thought he was some sort of animal? Surely she knew that he was cruel, she had seen him murder countless men. But he had to sway her judgment. He must.

"I was merely admiring your face in the early morning's light." Hook finally murmured soothingly, hoping to deceive the struggling girl into quiet submission.

Wendy was not moved however, and instead continued to squirm about roughly underneath him. She only stopped as he let out a savage hiss into her ear.

"I insist you stop your movements this instant."

She stilled at the insistence in his voice, and Hook hastily clamored off of her beside the bed, drawing her up as he did so. She was sitting upright now, with his hand still firmly upon her mouth.

Hook's breathing was shallow, and his piercing eyes drilled into her own as she shifted uneasily under his watchful gaze. Moments passed in which neither moved, until Hook spoke gravely.

"When I remove my hand, you will be silent. Correct?"

Wendy nodded dumbly, and slowly Hook removed his hand, dragging it to her shoulder, where he grasped harshly. Wendy winced, but refused to show she felt any pain.

"That's much better." Hook cooed, as he moved from her. "Now, do be civil my dear."

Several terms came to mind that Wendy wished to use against her captor. But she could tell by his calm countenance that he was indeed unfettered and that she should capitalize on her host's good humor.

"What time is it?" Wendy asked disoriented, her anger giving way to curiosity. She needed to know how long she had been upon this blasted pirate ship.

Hook gave her a severe glance of distaste to the girl's question before he turned his gaze to the small cabin window, and answered through steely agitation.

"I would wager around nine o’clock in the morning, judging by the sun."

Wendy realized her faux pas of asking Hook of all people the time, and recovered with a gentle "Oh," before she looked to the wooden floorboards below.

She wasn't sure whether to be vexed with him, or believe him when he'd said earlier that he'd kept his promise. In either case, had he intended on doing something, she doubted she would have been able to stop him. Perhaps he was just looking at her face as he had so voiced?

She suddenly was desperate for fresh air, desperate for some proof that she wasn't condemned to die in the cabin of her biggest foe. Perhaps to send out some sort of help signal?

"Captain?" She ventured, attempting to be civil and perhaps even charming. Wendy could be a very charming girl at times. "Would it be permissible for me to take a walk upon the deck? It's such a lovely morning and-"

"Wendy Wendy Wendy." Hook tsked good naturedly as he looked to the girl almost fondly at her feeble attempt at escape. "You don't think I'm that easily swayed do you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Wendy inquired, attempting to look innocent and confused. But she was worried, for she knew of Hook's renowned intelligence and ferocity.

"Let you have free roam upon my ship?" Hook said with an almost laugh. "It's completely out of the question."

"I'm never to leave this cabin?" Wendy stared at him in shock and disbelief.

"Of course you shall leave this cabin now and then." Hook said matter of factly as he brushed a loose curl from his face. "But go up on deck? Not this soon, I'm afraid. Perhaps in a month or so."

"What will change in the course of a month?" Wendy asked vehemently.

"We shall see." Hook teased darkly, before his demeanor changed and he turned into the authoritative Captain that dark and frightening stories were made of.

He went to his locked cabinet and removed a large piece of rope. Wendy watched in dim horror as he tested it if was taut. When he deemed it satisfactory, he moved back over to the shuddering Wendy.

"W-What are you going to do?"

Hook ignored the frantic girl and instead pushed her gently back onto the bed. Wendy's eyes were closed in fear, for she did not want to witness what was to come next.

She was startled moments later however, as that very rope was wrapped tightly around her ankles, tying her to the bed upon which she sat!

Poor Wendy. It was far too late before she realized what was happening. Far too late to begin kicking her legs for release, for Hook was an experienced pirate, and had finished the job quickly.

Wendy could only look down now, and see the rope bound around her unwilling ankles.

"I am no animal to be held captive!" Wendy insisted, looking more a furious woman than a girl.

"You are no animal my dear," Hook agreed complacently. "But you must be bound, for fear of further hurting yourself as evidence by your desperate actions yesterday."

Wendy merely grumbled in reply, wishing Hook away. No amount of pleading would change his mind, for he was a man that was not swayed by the charm of any woman, least of all her.

She noticed she had little leeway, and stepped tentatively off the bed as Hook watched in mild amusement. She could walk exactly five steps around in a circle where she stood. She could sleep on the bed, and she could stand on the floor, but aside from that she was indeed limited.

Hook soon grew tired of his observations, and stood at his full height, his gaze boring down upon he despondent girl.

"Help me with my jacket." Hook ordered as he stood, knowing full well the girl would do as he said, even though she despised having to do so. He nodded towards the crushed red velvet jacket hanging on the back of the chair within reach.

Wendy grasped it, depressed that she hadn't found any weapon in the pockets of the jacket to use against him. Sullenly she made her way over to him, looking up to see a cunning _expression upon Hook's face.

She ignored it, and helped him into the sleeves of his jacket, which when she stepped back to survey it was on properly, she observed suited him handsomely if she didn't look near the claw. He may have been a formidable and cold-blooded figure, but he had a certain class and gentlemanly quality that had her slightly in awe of him at times.

"Would you mind doing up the buttons, dear girl?"

His voice seeped into her subconscious and she absently shook her head of her prior thoughts. She nodded halfheartedly, idly wondering if he was just being difficult, or he sincerely needed her help.

Still she helped him with this mundane task, starting at the bottom of his jacket as she usually did when she had helped Michael as a small child with his sweaters.

"Does Smee usually help you in the mornings?" Wendy inquired, hoping for some civil conversation and to stave off the sudden awkwardness of the moment.

"He does."

"Am I to be expected to help you in the mornings from now on?" Wendy offered despondently, knowing the inevitable answer before it was uttered.

"It seems convenient, does it not?"

Wendy continued her upward journey of his buttons, her eyes on her busily working fingers.

"If it is a matter of convenience over preference, I would rather not."

"However, I demand you assist me." Hook said with slight irritation at her defiance. "You must earn your keep somehow."

He had hoped this last sentence would intrigue her into her old days, when the thought of earning keep on a pirate ship would titillate the senses. But it did not.

"Earn my keep?" Wendy said outraged, "But, I am a prisoner!"

"Miss Darling I shall feed you and I shall clothe you." Hook said with his voice at an extremely low decibel. "But do not delude yourself into thinking this is some sort of vacation of sorts. You are on my ship, prisoner or not, and you shall assist me when I demand it."

Wendy did not reply, but her fingers continued their daunting task upward, coming to the middle of his chest hurriedly, for she wished to turn from him as soon as it was possible.

"Leave that one undone." Hook said in a throaty voice as Wendy reached the button just below his neck. She did so, and found that she could not move. Not for Hook's icy grip, or the rope around her ankle, but because she felt a sudden pull that prohibited her from moving backward.

She looked up into the face of Hook, and did not see malice. For a flicker of a second, Wendy saw something in Hook's eyes that she had not seen in any man's. She remembered his lips then, and her eyes fell to his mouth. It had thrilled and frightened her when he kissed her savagely. What were these grown up feelings that confused her?

Hook had displayed civility. He had been a grand gentleman now and then. He had even been cordial at times when she was sure he would have had her murdered. But he was a dangerous man. A murderer. She was his pawn, and she hadn't any clue as to how long her life would be whilst upon this reached ship.

But people changed, could they not? Wendy was a girl that had been taught that even the leopard may change its spots. That one should be given a second chance.

But...there was still something of unease in Captain Hook.

There was something glittering in those pale eyes that demanded further scrutiny. And so Wendy looked deeper into that formidable gaze of Hook, and saw something none other had. At the sight of it, she grew quite breathless with shock.

The spell that had wound itself around Hook and Wendy was broken in that instant, for it was Hook that moved backwards, swallowing thickly. He paled, for he had seen in her face that she had uncovered something about him. But what and how?

"I shall take my leave." Hook said, clearing his throat and grasping his large hat from the coat rack. He prepared to duck out the cabin door when he turned back to Wendy and saw her troubled eyes. He drew back over to her, and dramatically took her small hand in his own.

"Have a good morning, Wendy, darling." He drawled before placing a soft kiss upon her knuckles. "I shall return in the early evening, and perhaps we will talk further then."

At that Hook rushed out the door, closing it behind him. Wendy listened earnestly, and heard the soft click that was her imprisonment. She had cried all the tears in her being, and for the moment was dried up.

She crawled back upon her bed solemnly, looking to the ceiling in distaste. She turned on her side, tracing the embroidery of his pillows with her hand absently. Her mind turned to her family, and of Peter.

She had been quite deluded in that small cellar the day before. She had thought she'd heard the cries of her brother's on the deck above her. How strangely the mind works in times of extreme chaos.

Now on the bed of the Captain, Wendy sat up and looked around at her surroundings more closely. She stepped off the bed, but went not much farther.

She started with the table beside the bed, and saw it held nothing. Since she was prohibited from moving farther, only her eyes moved to the dresser, noticing in distain that all the drawers were locked tightly, and only one man held the key.

There was also a lock on Hook's claw case. And as she looked at it now, Wendy knew it would be impossible to throw. It was sure to be unnaturally heavy, and she was weak with fatigue and depression.

And so Wendy let her eyes dance around the cabin several times, looking for anything that could cause damage and that she could reach. There were books, many of them but they were useless and much too far.

There were really no weapons to speak of. Wendy should have known it. Hook would never let her alone in this room without some sort of knowledge that she would not find anything that could potentially injure a man such as himself.

Besides, even if there were some way to pick the locks holding an array of weaponry, Wendy would never know, as she was tied quite tightly to the post of the large bed.

There was no point in fighting him, at least not now. Should Wendy fail, she knew her treatment would undoubtedly worsen. She also knew she would never make it off the ship with those fools on deck. She needed to strategize. She needed to know the best time to attempt escape.

At this Wendy allowed herself to smile for the first time since she'd been captured. It was a broad and glowing smile of hope, and one that was accompanied with an almost giggle of joy.

She would be arriving home soon enough.

*

Back in the Jungle of Neverland, a group of boys of varying heights and ages were in a full out hollering contest with one another. All looked completely beside themselves, especially two of the taller boys.

The night had been short, and those involved in battle had fallen asleep instantly. But now, in the new light of the morning, familiar feelings were aroused.

"He's got our sister!" Michael called out in fury as he looked to the anguished Peter sitting darkly on a large tree stump. "How can you just sit there!?"

"I made my promise." Peter replied testily. "Should you desire to see Wendy alive, we must obey Hook's orders."

Michael and John exchanged looks of mutual shock. There memories had returned with them, the moment they had agreed to the young boy's request to return with him to a land called Neverland.

Under normal circumstances, the analytical John would have declined, as would have Michael in turn. But it was when the boy mentioned their missing Wendy, that their interests were caught.

It was with that first sprinkling of fairy dust that Michael's eyes flashed with recognition.

"Peter!"

And John had called out to the boy himself, and before they knew what was happening, they were out the nursery window and into the black sky where stars called out to Peter.

And now, in the Jungle of their childhood dreams, John and Michael had grown serious. For it was no longer mere child's play. Their sister Wendy was indeed missing, and as brothers, they found it their duty to save her.

"You are a poor hero boy." John condemned Peter furiously. For he knew that he and Michael alone could not take on a ship filled with angry pirates.

"Do you think I wish to see her live on that pirate ship instead of in her home?" cried an anguished Peter. "I haven't a choice don't you see?"

The Lost Boys, who had been silent this entire time, now huddled together, speaking in hitched whispers Peter could not identify. He did not seem to care much though, for he was listlessly upon the tree stump, thinking of his Wendy.

As he is eternally a boy, Peter is not troubled with adult thoughts and problems. And so now, confronted with such, had taken a lot out of the lad.

Toodles stole over to where John and Michael were fuming together. He pulled on the eldest boy's shirts sleeve, and whispered hurriedly into his ear when his head declined to the boy's mouth.

John's eyes, that had previously been dulled, turned a bright shade, brighter still until they almost resembled the hot sun above them. And when Toodles had proudly finished, the young man stood straight, looking to Peter with sudden hope.

Peter caught the look in John's eyes, and raised a childish eyebrow in question.

"He said you were not to return, Peter." John said with a roguish grin. A grin that Peter was finally able to return as John finished with a flourish.

"He said nothing of us returning."
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Why swallows build in the eaves of houses