⚠️ WARNING: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Blood, and Death ⚠️

** LONG **

Word Count: 7,907

Last Updated: 3/26/22

It's such a cliche trope in the writing world. Where the villain steals the prince's love interest and holds her ransom while the prince goes on his epic quest to save his beloved. In my situation, however, I am very far from the label of 'princess' and the villain isn't a one-handed pirate thinking he finally got leverage against his arch-nemesis.

If I could I would roll my eyes into the back of my head. 

The Neverland forest is dense and dark as the two most disgusting pirates drag me through the overgrowth. I've never seen this part of the island before and the further they make me trudge the more unfamiliar I find the island. And the smallest part of me doubts for a second that he might not find me.

"So, where are we going?" I ask the two pirates, thinking this might be less awkward if I threw in some light conversation. "You gonna take me to the Crow's Nest and push me off a cliff? Gonna feed me to the sirens in the Western Lagoon? Well, that's kinda cliche because I'm friends with one of them. What about sending me to Dark Hollow for the shadows to kill me? There are so many options."

Instead of fluttered responses about the weather, I get a good smack to the back of the head that brought back fond memories of my childhood. "Shut it!" the pirate with a missing eye says with a voice like gravel. "Were bringin' ya someplace special." 

I almost cringe and swallow the burning vomit at the smell of his breath. God, I forgot that pirates forgot how to bathe. I shake off the smell and remind myself I only had to play 'damsel' until Peter came and found me. (I'd hate to admit it.)

I would have gotten rid of them if it weren't for their ridiculous, but a rather ingenious, trap. I thought I'd gotten rid of that wanderer when he scared me in the grotto. A kick to his groin and a slash of my knife and he was down and I ran for the hills, only to get stuck in a falling net of splintered twine and laughter that made my blood boil. 

How could I have been so stupid into wandering outside of Peter's borders? He lectured me for hours on the reasons to never leave camp and to never go beyond his borders. When he rescues me from these two idiots, he won't be relieved about my safety. Peter will bring me to his Quarters and lecture me while rubbing ointment on my red wrists. 

"So ... which is it?" I try again, ignoring the ache in the back of my head. "Lagoon or Dark Hollow?"

Like the other times, I've tried being polite, no reply. Just mysterious creatures prowling through the dark growth and my body being lurked back and forth over roots and deer trails. 

"Can you at least tell me if this is gonna be an overnight thing or what? I was going to make stew tonight and that takes all day."

I thought I had gotten to them when the hunched pirate leading us turned around. Just like the time before, instead of a smack to the back of my head, it was to the front. His hand was rough and spikey when he slapped me. A tingling hot pain seared through my face and if the shock wasn't there, I would have fumed. My heart stops and something chilly slithers down my body. Iron bursts in my mouth and I feel pain in my lip. Rough handwork pushes me down and a dirty cloth that tastes like sweat and salt is tied harshly around my teeth.

"What? Ain't got nothin' to say, sweetheart?" The pirate sneared. I stayed quiet and killed them with my eyes. "Good. Now shut up."

"Get up, lassie." I'm yanked to my feet like an old rag doll and pulled through the forest, stumbling over unknown roots and feeling like we've walked in circles before hearing crashing tides and the smell of salt and dried seaweed wafts into my nose.

The Jolly Roger stood proudly on the Southern shores of Neverland where it's always been anchored since the dawn of time. The sails were tied to their towering masts and weathered wood that was splintered and worn made up the entirety of the ship. I've never seen the ship from up this close, only on the horizon when Peter showed me The Crow's Nest while simultaneaously lecturing me to stay away from the Southern Lagoon.  In which I was now being draggedto by these ... disgusting men who probably haven't seen a bar of soap bar in years.

"The captain will be pleased with your arrival," the one dirty sailor hissed in my ear and I flinched away from his breath. "He's been waitin' to meet ya for a very long time."

"Long time, indeed." The other repeated. "C'mon, lassie! Can't keep the captain waitin'!"

I'm pushed onto me knees into the damp sand by one of the sailors with a busted lip and greasy hair. The other one dragged an anchor from the world's tiniest dingy and gesutres as if it were a horse-drawn carriage to an enchanted castle. The other sailor with a hunched back and glass eye kept me pinned to the ground as his colleage settled the boat. 

"and then heaves me into the splintering boat like a treasure chest. The others laugh and cackle at my discomfort, my head beginning to pound and my wrists blistering with the rope they've used. The pain I could get used to, but the iron in my mouth and pounding in my head were a new ache I would eventually get used to.

"Captain will be very pleased with us," Said the hunched-back sailor like a slave, "He hasn't been able to catch a Lost One since last month. And with Pan changing his camp every bloody day," he said his name like a curse while I heard his name like a blessing, "we haven't found one. We thought they were all dead. But then we find you, lassie, and well ... captain will be very pleased."

"Very pleased ... " Repeated the other.

Something I've only known in the beginning came crawling back into my body hearing the way the pirate's laugh echoed around the open sea. It made me doubt for a moment if this was one of those times where I wouldn't be saved. 

No. He'll save me. It's just a bunch of pirates. I shoved down my fear and glared at the two as hard as I could as they floated over the white taps of the southern ocean. They laughed at my discomfort and even teased me, poking my thin clothes with their dirty boots and commenting on my beautiful hair and eyes. I kicked them away and scolded myself for leaving camp without a knife. The one time I decide to go berry picking without my knife and this is what I get for karma. 

The ship looked terrifying the closer the dingy got to it. Dark clouds loomed around the tied sails and the rumbling growl of the sky made me shrink further into the boat. It stood tall in the rolling sea and the Crow's Nest just barely scraped the clouds as it bobbed in the lagoon. The pirate's laughter echoed with the thunder and I swallowed the fear back down. 

I had to be brave. I have to be strong. They want me to be scared. They want me to be terrified and beg for mercy or forgiveness. That's what they think of me: a scared little girl. As of this moment, in this dingy and considered the 'last Lost One,' I needed to show them what the Lost Ones were made of. We weren't weak and hid in the shadows. We beared out fangs and protected our kind. We hid in the shadows until the time was right. We striked in the blind darkness of night and we killed to survive. I needed to prove the others justice and show these disgusting rat pirates that Pan's army was strong and fearsome and viscious.

I blocked out the wind and thunder and glared daggers at the two. You are not weak, Eva. Peter's voice rang over the wind, You are stronger than you believe. And I will prove that to you.

We arrived at the boat's ide that smelled of maggots and barnacles that grew like mold. Dirty hands plucked at my clothes like a sack of flour and yanked me up and shoved me to the slippery ladder bouncing against the ship. At first, I debated on diving into the lagoon and swimming to the island. Perhaps the sirens could find me and help to shore. Or they could send a message to the others to warn him.

"Oi, nice view ain't it?" The pirate shoved my thighs closer to the ladder, at a price for being kicked in the face. His howl of pain brought me my first smile - and another slap to the face. I only got a grin for a few minutes when more hands grasped my clothes and hauled me onto the deck like I was a fish in one of their nets. My back landed hard on the deck and my body was immediatly got crowded by men wearing dirty clothes and greasy hair. They purred and growled at my beauty and commented on Pan's 'tastes' in recruits.

"She's a beaut," One pirate claims, smirking with a tooth gap. "Do ya think they're all like this?"

I tossed my braid to the side and glared at them all as more hands grabbed me to stand on the swaying ship. I've never been this rough handled since I first got to Neverland. Before, I had my 'scary dog privilege' where he was always there to stop it before someone lost a finger. This time I was on my own. 

I quickly twisted my body and yanked their fingers from my grasp. I've swam with bounded hands before. One of the horrible harsh training sessions of Felix. For once it came in handy. I made a run for the railing and jumped onto a crate. My body was half over the ocean, tight and ready for impact when something yanked me back onto the wood. 

My shoulders evened with the ache and I fell hard onto the deck. Something gleamed in the corner of my eyes and when I turned, my body was already pinned by a boot to my chest. With enough pressure, my breathing shallowed to wheezing and I fought to breathe through my nose. 

The Captain was a dark figure against the shadows of the storm. His dark coat flapped in the wind and his dark hair and stubble was noticible against the paleness of his skin. The hook that had caught around my ankle gleamed and shined in the grey light. I had only ever heard stories of that hook and how he'd gotten it. 

"Ah, so you finally caught one." He said with his head cocked to the side. "I didn't know Pan was now hiring on girls in his army. Not complaining, though ... "

"Yeah, a feisty little urchin." The pirate I hd kicked wabbled on board, clutching his nose that's begun to bleed. "Let me tie her to the mast so the storm can have 'er,"

"Where should we put her?"

"Down below with us?"

"Or with the captain ... ?"

"Aye!" The Captain suddenly spat to his rats. They clammed their mouths and shuffled silently as their captain stared down on their catch of the day. I matched his gaze and squirmed, thrashed, and twisted on the deck. My poor body was getting more and more bruised with every twist and turn of my body. My ribs wailed in pain when the Captain's boots made contact. "Indeed she is a fiesty thing ... " He leaned in close and I scurried away. "Put her down below in the cells. Then we can have our little chat later."

Two pirates grabbed my arms and hauled me up, they're grip extra tight and firm as they shoved me down the stairs into the body of the ship. The below deck of the Jolly Roger was nothing to brag; smelling like salt, vinegar, sweat, and something stale and dying. Lanterns swung recklessly from side to side on their squeaky hooks as the pirates led me down the rotting steps. 

"Watch ya step!" the pirate hollered from the top step. I could barely hear or see clearly with how many times my body has been hurt and ached. Like before, I'm hauled from the floor and thrown into a dark iron cell. Before my eyes drooped and my body gave in, a strong sharp smell of rum and iron shot up my nose and created a horrible tangy taste on my tongue. I coughed through the cloth and struggled against the pirate's grasp one final time, but got nowhere. My limbs finally grew heavy and my head throbbed with pain.

I shook my head and mumbled out a few words I didn't know - something along the lines of the horrible smell coming from a certain room - and continued to squirm and struggle and kick wherever I could. No matter how much I moved or squirmed, my body got heavier and I dropped against the floor along with my own weight. Hard metal collided with my head and a pained whine came out.

I open my mouth to snap at the pirates but found a pained groan instead. My entire body began feeling nothing. Numbness overtook my senses. All of them; the awful salt and vinegar smell become normal, the splintering wood and swaying of the ship feel ... almost comforting. 

I just want to sleep.

I don't care where I am.

I just ... need to shut my eyes ... for a minute.

When I wake up I'll kick all their butts. I'll save myself and prove to Pan I'm capable of surviving.

NO! You can't sleep! You can't let them win! Pan promise that I was strong and that I can save myself! I CAN save myself. I just need to shake this off.

I hear creaky groans of the prison door being shut and the clank of locks setting into place. "Nighty nighty, lassie."

Okay, locks. I'm good at picking locks. I have a few pins in my braid. I just need to get out of these ropes. The fight within me feels more exhausting than whatever potion that pirate gave to me. Everything feels heavy and numb and blurry and just overall ... nothing.

Or I can just ... go to sleep and do it after.

NO! Stop it!

But I'm so tired ...

* * * *

Peter entered The Delilah with a proud smile on his face. As the double doors locked behind him, the powerful protection curse stitched itself back, allowing the residents inside to stay safe and unbothered - and unstolen. The soft smile on his face brightened as he entered the home and placed his findings on the map table. "Eva, I finally killed that doe that's been wandering the eastern grotto. We've have a good stew for dinner."

The treehouse was warmer than the chilly jungle air from the fire Eva always kept going. No cheery voice sweet like vanilla greeted him when he spoke. No spice of sarcaism was shouted from the curtained bedroom. The phonograph in the corner was spewing white noise from the end of a record that was abandoned. It wasn't playing any joyful music that she loved and only scratches and crinkling ambiance.

Pan dropped his bag of trimmed meat and stopped the needle, now observing the room and its emptiness.

Eva wasn't sitting by the fire cutting vegatables for their afternoon meal or sewing holes in their clothing by the window. Her perfect soft frame wasn't curled up in her hammock reading her books while she drank her almond tea. The room felt empty, cold, and terrifying.

Eva was not here.

"Eva? Sweetness?" Pa turned to the back room and whipped aside the curtains in a rush; the bed was in tangles from earlier that morning and the candle that has been lit laid in a half-melted puddle in its tin. He was half hoping to see her curled up in their furs and quilts, sleeping soundly and peacefully.

The bed was cold and empty.

A lump settled in Pan's throat and his chest began to bounce with blind fear.

No. Stop. She must be ... wandering the island. 

Pan forced himself to calm down. He did what he knew Eva would tell him. "Just take a deep breath, Pete, okay? Take a breath. And another one. And then another one. And then you find me when it doesn't work. I'll be there."

Pan pictured her soft skin. His fingertips tingeled with the imagination of how soft it felt, like touching a rose's petals in it's peak youth. Her fiery hair that always smelled like lavender and chamomile, and fell apart through his fingers when he touched them. He pictured her laugh. Her kisses after drinking her tea. Her hugs when everyone was bothering him and his world shrunk to her arms.

He found himself in the jungle beside the riverbank. The willow tree stood against the bank in a waterfall of green and grey clouds. Its soft leaves draped over the water's surface creating small dimples in the river beside the small droplets of rain. The wildflowers withered around his boots and the air of the river felt cold and heavy. The meadow was bare of any girl with a book or creating flower chains with a smile that could heal all immortal wounds.

Pan's body went rigid and a hot familiar blinding pain covered his eyes and filled his ears, whispering something in his mind that made the blood in his veins boil. His chest began bouncing frantically with the sudden realization filling his thoughts. 

That drunk bastard ... 

With the storm whirling overhead, Pan marched into his camp with a look that parted the sea of boys and archers with his look alone. They whispered and stared at their leader as he yelled, "Gather your weapons. Coat everything in Dreamshade and head to the Southern shore. Go!" The boys sat in fear before Pan had to yell again, making them scatter like mice and hurry to their weapons.

Felix dropped his knife and heaved his club on his shoulder, "What is it?" he asked.

"The Captain crossed the line." Pan growled, "He has found the need to test my patience after I've given him my ignorance. It's time we remind him where his boundaries lie. Gather a group and wait for me once you've gathered them. Do it. Now."

Felix didn't question Pan's orders. He never did. He headed into camp and shouted more orders to the others. Telling them to sharpen their knives, to make more arrows, to grab their spears and axes and bows. Pan summoned his crossbow from the depths of his thoughts and loaded the barrel with practiced ease. He made sure the weapon was stable by firing a practice shot just scraping an unlucky Lost Boy's ear. 

No one left Neverland's shores. Not without Pan's permission. And when someone broke his Pan's rules and disobeyed his orders, he intended to punish them accordingly.

* * * *

My brain felt mushy and sluggish when I opened my eyes. A deep ache was pounding all throughout my body and I regret drinking whatever rum was offered the night before. The forest sways and smells unusually salty and ... like vinegar. My arms ached and are raised above my head for an odd reason, and when I tugged them down they get stuck.

In my haze, I looked up through the gas lights. My hands were bound by thick rough rope double knotted to the wall of the ship. My body sits slouched and entrapped inside a rusty iron cell that looks as brittle as autumn leaves. One single gas lantern swayed outside shining a small key of hope on the opposite wall.

Lightning flashed outside the porthole and the ship suddenly swayed vigorously. Thunder growled above and rain began falling into the cell from above.

Great.

With my ankles bound and my hands tied, I was stuck. In my recovery haze, I tried remembering the training Pan taught me in my first years on Neverland. How to escape bonds and untie certain knots with ease. He kept spilling poison into my tea and breakfast and I woke up in unknown places being tied and bound differently. At least he kept a knife a good distance away for my inconvience. This time I didn't have a knife.

"Look, Puppet is awake."

I whipped to the voice in the darkness, lurking just outside the lantern's radius. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and when the man stepped out, I cringed. It was the two pirates that snatched me from Neverland's shores. And they had somehow entered my prison cell. 

"Are there more girls like you on the island?" One asked smirking slightly, "I wouldn't mind one for my self."

I almost wanted to gag but the cloth in my mouth stopped me from doing so. I couldn't help but be slightly relieved that it stopped me from vomitting.

"Maybe Pan is taking them all for himself," The pirate I kicked teases, his nose looking bent and crooked. "But we can play with this one until he takes it back."

"Do you think she's as soft as she looks?" The other pirate said. He reached out a bandaged grimey hand toward my face and I flinched back against the wall with a growl. "She looks soft but is as wild as a bore."

"Or smells like one."

I almost wanted to complain and whine that I had taken a bath only a few days ago, but now wasn't the time. It was them that smelled like wild animals and their feces. With their greasy hair and dirt dried to their skin. They were the ones that needed a dunk in the ocean with a bar of soap.

"But she's feisty. I love those feisty women. The ones that think they have a chance." Broken-Nose inched closer and leaned forward in the dark, his face now a few inches from mine and I bite back a scream. "They're like soft little bunnies in ya hands." His fingers reached out and stroked my hair, which has now been untangled from my braid and in wild curls. My back was flushed against the wall and I had nowhere to go. No knife place by my feet. No Pan standing in the shadows watching me fend for myself. No safety net.

Never get into a cage you can't get out of. His voice rang in my head.

I was quite literally corned and bound to the ship's wall. I was a rabbit victimized by two rabid foxes. I glared at his face and turned my head away, shivering under his sticky touch and praying that Peter was on his way - or at least preparing a plan to board the ship.

"She is a beaut, though," The other pirate chuckled. The one with the face tattoo of a swirling symbol and a glass eye that swivels with disgust. "I wonder if she's warm ... "

My chest bounces with anger as my bound hands and legs give no use. If I were free, I'd kick each of them in the balls and maybe a few kicks to the ribs for good measure - maybe another on the pirate's nose. I could only muster a brutal kick to one of their shins and he yelped with pain. I did't expect a fist to collide into my jaw and another boot to strike my ribs in the process. The pain was welcoming, though. At least I got a good scratch to one.

"Learn some respect, lassie," Glass-Eye hissed. "Just for that, we deserve an apology."

"Since ya can't speak, we'll take it in other ways,"

A muted scream came out of me as one pirate breaked open my blouse, revealing my half-bustier. The one I vowed only Peter would see.

"Ooh, she's a proper lady,"

"She's much cleaner than the women in Tortuga," Glass Eye commented stroking my cheek with his hand and with eyes that glow with lust. "I wonder if she's softer than them, too?"

"We should find out."

I thrashed in my bonds as Glass Eye pinned my shoulders and the other ran a hand along my bustier, toying with the strings and smirking with black teeth. Fear boiled in my stomach and for a moment I paniced that Peter wouldn't come.

Has he really left me here to be touched by these ... these men?

Was this his way of putting my training to use? This was my test. My final test to see wither I've fully becom a Lost One.

I scream into the gag as a warm rough hand that isn't His drags down my collarbone, fluttering over the top of my breasts, and down my bustier. I thrashed in their grip and used all my strength to break the ropes tying my ankles. If I could just get the rope free I could kick them away from me.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening!

My whimper mixed with the pirate's chuckle and sweet words of my soft skin and clean hair. I thrashed and squirmed as much as I could take, hoping the pirates would just tire of me and leave.

A sharp whistle screeched around the ship and answered my prayers. The two pirates stopped their motions and stood up like alerted dogs. "Oi, what's that?"

"All hands on deck! Captain's orders!" A voice yelled from above. 

The two pirates groaned in protest while I swooned in relief - but not for long. "We'll be back, Puppet," Glass-Eye purred making sure to whisper it closely into my ear and then lick the shell. I screamed into the gag and curled into the corner as they got up and took their leave.

I quickly rubbed my ear off my shoulder and puffed. I had gone through worse with cat calls and touches in the village. When I was a young girl, a boy from school tried to reach under my skirt. I was scolded by Father for breaking the boy's nose the next day. If only I could so something worse to those two once I'm free. And I will do worse.

My heart was still pounding in my ribs when I recollected myself. They were just touches. I needed to focus on escaping or they would come back. The sobs were lodged in my throat and I forced myself to swallow them down, but the tears still leaked from my eyes. I needed to get out of here.

My hands were tied up and behind my head on a hook. I knew how to get out of normal hand bondage if they were in front of me. I could try the same process from behind. The first process was rocking my wrists back and forth, loosening the rough rope and earning some wiggle room. If I could find the ends of the knot, I could pick at them and loosen them enough where I can see what I'm working with. The rain falling from the ceiling was helpful in loosening the knot I picked.

Footsteps pounded the roof and shouts echoed here and there. I made sure to stop when I heard them come close or when pirate's eyes peeked into the celler. I needed to be stealthy and escape under their noses. I've done it once with Samuel and Jonathon, they stood "guard" while I untied my ropes behind my back. They never knew.

I did the same to the ankles, twist them and moving my feet apart and  out to loosen the knots. At least they didn't tie my knees together - like they should of. I was able to loosen the rope and kick them away. One bondage down, one more to go.

I scrambled to my feet and twisted my body so I could see my hands. The knot was tighter than I thought and the burns my wrists were getting from twisting weren't going to be enough. 

"Bad form, Captain." 

That voice.

I knew that voice.

I peered into the rain from above. I couldn't see anything but the storm clouds and occasional lightning that flashed in the storm, but I knew who he was. His voice echoed warmth into my cold bruised body and I swooned in relief. With Pan here, and possibly the Lost Ones nearby, I had extra time.

He was doing his part. I still had mine.

"About damn time," I muttered through my gag.

"To think you could outsmart me on my own island. It's a shame, really," Peter continued from above. A loud thump came from above and his foot - small but heavy - walked across the deck. "After all this time, I would've hoped you'd learn something from me."

"The only thing I've ever learned in my imprisonment," The Captain spat out a few rasps against the wind, "Is to never trust anyone but your own, and that all favors come attached with string."

"Well, it looks like I did teach you something," Peter remarked. "But ... I find it rather idiotic that you still don't learn from your own mistakes." Anyone could hear the drop of tease from his voice when he growled, "I want what belongs to me, Captain. It's not fair to take what belongs to others. Especially when I've done nothing to you."

"You've imprisoned me on this island!" The Captain sneered from above. "You killed my brother."

I could almost hear and picture the scoff from Peter, when he says so matter-of-factly, "After all these years you still blame me for something you ignored. I warned you about leaving Neverland. I warned you there would be a price if you left. You ignored me the same way I warned you about your 'medicine' your King requested. You didn't listen to me. I warned you to never leave and you ignored me." His voice fell and said, "When will you accept the fact that you were the one that killed your brother. Not me."

I hurried my nails to pick at the knot and loosen it's fibers by a mere few inches. Damn these blistering ropes.

"If leaving the island is all you demand," Pan continued, "then you've bargained poorly. Nothing is stopping you from leaving my shores. I have no more use of you. Leave if you wish. But if you return, I can't promise your leave the next time."

The sound of metal made my spine shiver. I glared up into the thunder as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating Pan's tall figure and looming gaze. Standing right above the grate.

"Aye? And what if I decline your offer?" A low growl said from above.

Pan's fists clenched at his sides and for a moment, I see his fingers itching at the dagger at his waist. It's not worth it, Pete, I want to shout, I'm right here. 

"Then you're a fool," Peter spat. "If you wish to stay, I don't mind the company. But what I demand of you now is of what you've stolen from me. I'm asking nicely now before I lose my temper."

I dug my blistering nails into the dirty tight rope and am relieved when I get the knots loosened. After countless tugs and manuevers to get it loosened, the thick rope falls from my wrists and I quickly yanked them to my chest. I rip off the gag and fought the urge to cough and vomit in the cell.

"I am not a man that draws quickly," The Captain continued, "I will die with honor and with my ship."

Peter just sighed from above me and said, "Your death will only pollute the ocean, Captain. Your death can be avoided if you give back what you stole."

"Not without resistance and fair play." When I look up against the rain again, the end of a sharp sword is aimed at Peter's throat. For a split second, as long as a lightning flash, I'm scared for him. I fear for his life as he stands above me at the wrong end of the sword. 

"Fine." Peter reaches for his waist and takes his dagger, the blade glinting in the light of the storm. For a moment, I wonder if he's serious and willing to fight with one hand tied behind his back. No magic. No powers. Nothing but the short sword in his hand and the wits and brutal strength he hides under his thin body.

"Oops." The handle slips from his fingers and falls to the ground, miraculously falling through the grate and digging itself into the wood beside me. "The rain makes things slippery, does it not?"

I wasted no time in his offer and snatched the blade from the ground, racing to the lock to pick. Peter's dagger was slender and the blade had a narrow tip, perfect for picking locks or jamming them open.

"Go down and check the girl!" A voice bellows,

Everything suddenly erupted in panic.

Grunts and screams came from above. Metal scratching against metal as Pan and his army began their fight. The whoops and hollers of more boys tell me he wasn't alone. 

Thundering footsteps rushed down the stairs and I quickly get to work on picking the lock. It was the only skill I didn't inherit from Peter, something I was simply good at and naturally an expert in. I rip the pin from my braid and use the tip of Peter's knife to pick the lock, testing the knobs and feeling for ticks or hints. I hear the gears turning through the rain and I concentrate on the tumblers and locks. 

"She's trying to escape!"

Click.

The gate unlocked and I swung my knife. Glass-Eye dodged the strike and raised his hand that holds a rusty dagger. I blocked the attack and finally use my knee to bruise his raisins. He groans and falls to the floor. I kicked his rubs for good measure and twist the arm with the dagger, hearing a satisfying crunch at a broken bone or dislocated shoulder.

"I'm not soft." I growled at him, "Nor am I a bunny." I kicked his face into the wall and striked the knife through his shoulder. His screams of agony pierced my hears and the warmth that filled my hand was equally chilling. The anger and disgust fueling my veins forced me to ignore the blood and squirms of the pirate underneath me. It was just like any hunt, killing the animal and praying for your graditude on it's life. Only this time, I was praying to Hades to punish the bastard in hell. I pushed past the pained screams and ripped the knife out of his flesh, turning away from the injury before I could see it.

Across the hall, a figure stood above the body of the another pirate, ash falling from his fingers on the trembling body by his boots. He shook off the access and turned back to me, entering the lantern's light. Those beautiful eyes slowly raked by body and of it's bruises, blood. I could see the anger boiling behind his lashes at the sight of my half ripped blouse, where my bustier was visible to all who looked.

I almost dropped the knife in my hands. His blade nearly slipped from my fingers but the reminder of his name made me clutch it for dear life. I rushed into his arms pressing myself into the comfort and familiarity of his body and smell. "Peter," The sobs I've held finally burst by the sound of his name and I clung to the material of his tunic; damp from the rain and smelling beautifully of smoke and earth. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should've stayed on the Northern side of the island."

"Shhh," Peter held my neck and tangled his fingers deeply into my hair, pressing me tight to his chest and peppering kisses onto my head. His sweet breath replaced the stretch of rum and iron, and I want to wrap myself around his smell. I melted like chocolate under his touch and begged him to replace the ones that were before; rough and merciless. "I have you."

"Did you bring the others?" I choked,

"They're avenging you as we speak." Pan replied, "We must leave. I need to get you someplace safe. More will be coming."

"What about the others?" I begged, stopping him from transporting us. 

"I've given Felix a bean. If he knows what he's doing, they'll go back to the island once their battle is over." Pan shushed any more questions from me and whisked us away in green smoke and heavy motions.

Our world spins and the wet cold prison of the ships began to feel familiar and warm. The smell of spices and herbs swirls into my nose and the rain changes to pour outside instead of on top of our shoulders.

"Sit." Peter pried himself from my arms and gently guided me to a chair by the fire. His thin fingers worked gently on my wet blouse, unbuttoning the little buttons and slowly peeling the wet old shirt from my wet body. He fetched a warm shirt and offered it to me, letting me take it and finally cover my undergarments.

I reached out and locked my fingers on the V of his tunic, keeping him in front of me and allowing myself to selfishly gaze into his eyes; green and gold and perfect. Hidden under dark brows and mysterious shadows, his face wass beautifully sculpted and clean and handsome in the flickering warm light of the fire. They glanced down toward my cheek, at the bruising he saw on my ribs and the red on my wrists and ankles.

His thumb grazed the broken skin the sting hurting less than my honor. The relief in his eyes turns cold; churning and stirring like the clouds outside along the horizon. "I will only ask you this," He growled, "has the bastard earned his fate?"

I'm snapped to reality and I cling with both hands to his clothes, "They're gone. You killed them."

"Good." Was all he said, "I need to treat you."

"No! Please!" I yanked him back into me, more harshly than I should have, "Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. Not while they're still fresh." I couldn't bear the idea of being alone with myself and my unhinged thoughts; those hands on my body, their breath on my neck, and knuckles brushing where his should have been. I couldn't shake the feeling of their bodies so close to mine, their violent hands attacking my bustier, the thought of if they went further ...

Peter kneeled between my thighs and caught the limp body that begging for his comfort, like a troubled damsel fainting in the arms . His arms engulfed my broken honor like an injured bird. "Those men won't touch you anymore," He vowed, petting my hair and kissing my skin, "They've earned their consequence, and the flesh that violated yours will be burned." His lips pressed soft forgiving kisses onto my head. His body curling around me like a dragon protecting it's treasure.

I sobbed into the warmth of his comfort. Something about touching Peter's skin, smelling his natural musk, and feeling his words pierce through the darkness in my thoughts, it was all too much. The relief was too much. A tiny part of me was embaressed that I cried so harshly into his tunic. I was worried I'd leave a tear/snot stain on his shoulder that I pulled away.

"I'm sorry," I roughly wiped the tears from my soaked face and sat back up, my body still trembling and leaking with tears. Like a cracked pot that hasn't been fully fixed or sealed.

"Evangeline," Peter's words were dense and strong, pulling me back up from my woes. "Never apologize for what you cannot do. For it will be just a waste of your precious tears." His thumb caught a teardrop just before it nestled into the corner of my lips. For good measure, he kissed my cheeks and dropped another into my mouth, making sure that every tear was kissed away. "I need to take care of you."

Peter slipped away from my body for a moment, kissing an apology on my temple, and scavaged The Delilah for his medical herbs and supplies. I watched his back flex and move as he gathered the specific leaves and flowers to make a paste. I recognized them as rosemary, mint, and rainwater. A simple paste to keep bacteria and infection away while the wound healed.

Something heavy suddenly dropped into my hands and I felt the familiarity of my teacup, small and dainty in my hands filled with steaming almond tea. Three sugars and a splash of oat milk. (He remembered.)

Pan's shoulders stood as high and as broad as the mountains that lined the island. His body stood firm and rigged as he ground herbs into the bowl. White knuckles held the handle of his pedestal as he ground harshly into the bowl, imagining the innocent herbs and petals as the faces of the men who took advantage of me. As if ripping his soul and crushing into dust with his bare hands wasn't enough. 

I winced every time he used his strength to grind the rosemary and mint. I felt pity for the plants. They had done nothing wrong. They were doing the opposite of what the men did; they were healing me. I sat perfectly still in his chair and could only stare at his fight for control; his tunic still dripped on the floor and his hair damp and curly at the back of his neck. 

I sat the teacup down and stood on my shaky legs and reached him with three strides. I wrapped my hands around his waist and reached the buckle in front. Peter stood very still in my arms. His breath held and waiting as I let the heavy leather fall and slowly slide off his tunic.

"You're still wet," I said.

"I'll dry off."

"Not when you're shivering." I took the tunic and laid it with my blouse by the fire.

I sat on his chair again when his paste was finished and stood more still when he applied it. It was cold and nibbled my skin. Peter kneeled between my thighs once again, applying his paste wherever he found blood or rashes, anywhere that didn't look right. As he applied his medical paste, I grabbed the towel I had used to dry off and wrapped it around his chest, using the ends to gently dry off his wet hair.

I rubbed slowly, clockwise, and pressed deeply. Peter leaned further into my touch, relaxing in every way possible in my arms. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled into his hair.

"No," Was his muffled reply. He sat up in my arms and looked at me with the softest gaze imaginable. "None of this was your fault. Do not apologize."

"If I was stronger and smarter like Samuel or Felix I would've gotten myself out of it," I said. "I know I'm still training but that's with swords and bows and arrows. I had nothing. I couldn't defend myself and I'm sorry I dragged you out into the southern sea."

Pan stopped my words with only a look that I knew meant 'be quiet.' I clammed my mouth shut and sulked in his presence. I was not like the others. The Lost Ones were equipped with daggers and the knowledge to get out of any situation. They were trained to survive with violence. I was trained to survive by others. Training has gotten me out of my bondages in the cell, but being that I had to be entrapped in a prison cell was what made me worried and guilty. If it weren't for Peter, if he had never fallen in love with me, if he had never cared, I would have been screwed.

A heavy material fell upon my shoulders and wrapped itself around my body. 

"Darling," Peter tugged the edges of his cloak tighter around my shivering frame. "I'm here. You're safe. No one will ever touch you again. I will make them all pay for that consequence, but the consequence I refuse to bear is you not believing in yourself." His hands cradled my face and brushed more of my tears away. "You will always be strong. You are the strongest woman I know. What you did today was brave. You bared your teeth at them. You fought until you couldn't go any longer. You've never doused your spirit, and you didn't lose hope."

He took my hands buried in my lap and firmly tugged my chin down. "You may lack strength in your body, but that isn't a permanent thing. You can become stronger. Faster. Smarter. But the strength inside you is what you decide. You excel with the strength inside you. You must know that."

In a smooth swift motion, Pan stood up with my body cradled in his arms, his cloak still wrapped tightly around my shoulders. My thoughts and muscles were too tired to complain. I allowed him to carry me the few steps toward our bedroom and lay me in our nest of blankets and pillows. He crawled after laying with me and making well certain that I was buried within his body.

Pan tugged the quilt up to our chests and held me flush against him, running delicate fingers through my damp hair to gently detangle the knots. "As long as I breathe you will be safe." 

*~* This was a bit longer than most shorts and for that, I apologize (not). I haven't written Peter in a while so I kinda just exploded on him and made this super longer scenario. I mean it's bound to happen; someone stealing Pan's one and only weakness and using it against him. 😅 Not the best trope, but it gets the job done. 👍 (Also, the GIF of Peter's eyes.😍 Like, oh my god they're gorgeous.) 💚 *~* 

EDIT 3/26/22: This was cheesy and I needed to fix it. I think it works a bit better, but then again who knows. I'll probably update it again later.