Chapter 10
He heard the heartbeat, deep and strong, and he smiled. "Daddy?" he said softly, opening his eyes. Pain flared through his head at the sudden light, and he jerked in surprise, squeezing his eyes shut and moaning.
"Smee, close the curtains," Hook ordered quietly, seeing Peter's reaction. He was greatly relieved by that reaction: if Peter's eyes were sensitive to light, then he could see the light. Peter hadn't awakened at all since they'd brought him back yesterday morning, and he'd been living in fear for that entire time. While Smee darkened the room, Hook put a cup of water to the youth's lips, letting him drink his fill. "Try to open your eyes again, slowly," he told the boy.
Peter did, hissing a bit. He could see, but even this dim light hurt his eyes and his head began to pound. But he forced himself to look at his father's tired, drawn face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He winced a bit when Hook's eyes tightened, feeling the anger flare in the man.
"Now is not the time," Hook answered. "You're not up to defending your actions right now, and if we discuss it, I'm going to end up hurting you. Enjoy your reprieve while you can." He frowned, noticing how Peter still squinted. "Can you see me?"
"Yes," Peter mumbled. "Hurts, though."
Hook nodded and looked at Smee. "Bring me a sash or a cloth belt to make a blindfold."
"Ay, Cap'n," Smee replied. "Is Mr. Hook hungry?"
Peter winced again. Smee was extremely upset if he was calling him Mr. Hook in the privacy of their cabin. Peter's eyes watered and he tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears. "No, sir," he whispered. "Mr. Smee needn't trouble himself over me."
"Mr. Smee's troubled hisself plenty o'er ya," the bosun snapped, tossing a sash to Hook. "Is ya hungry or not?"
Peter closed his eyes. Billy and Mullins hated him. Apparently Smee did too. Hook was dangerously angry. His stomach roiled, warning him not to even think of it. "No, sir," he repeated.
Smee snorted angrily at that.
"Bosun, you're not helping," Hook growled. "I thought I could depend on you, but you're hurting him worse." Smee snorted again, but he calmed a bit when Peter began shaking.
"Does everyone hate me now?" Peter whispered. The throb in his head intensified, but it paled next to the pain in his heart.
"Hate?" Hook and Smee repeated, both equally confused. "Peter, no one on this ship hates you," Hook tried to reassure him.
"Billy does," Peter sniffed.
"Billy don't even know ya hit 'em," Smee answered. "Why would he hate ya?"
"He told me no one wanted me here," Peter sighed, "He unlocked the brig and told me to leave. He said you'd hate me if I became Peter Pan again, and I'd hate you back. Said you'd kill me."
"Mr. Jukes let you out? And told you that?" Hook said coldly, his anger shifting to a new target.
"Already had a food sack packed for me, told me you'd all be happier with me gone," Peter muttered, too miserable to notice the shift in his father.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch," Hook growled.
"No!" Peter cried, trying to sit up. He gasped at the searing pain and clutched his head. Hook's arms tightened around him and he relaxed in the grip. "Don't hurt him. He's right to hate me, I hurt him. He was my friend and I hurt him."
Hook felt Peter withdraw into himself and sighed. "Smee, bring some broth for Peter. He's too upset to stomach much, but he needs to eat." When the bosun left, Hook sat Peter up and began winding the sash around his eyes.
"We found Billy unconscious outside the brig the day you disappeared. When he finally woke, he couldn't remember going to see you, or the conversation he had with Mullins before that," he helped Peter lie down when he was done. "The only thing we could assume was that you'd overpowered him and escaped.
"He let me out," Peter repeated. "How is he?"
"He's still addled, but he's doing much better today from what I hear. Now that you're back, Dria's helping Mullins with him. The pixie dust seems to be helping him."
"Dria? Pixie Dust?" Peter echoed in confusion.
Hook shook his head. "We need to finish our talk, but you need to rest first. When you've rested some more, I'll begin reading my journals to you. When you can see straight again, you'll read them yourself." Hook tugged the manacles on Peter's ankles, and the boy felt a surge of alarm that he'd not noticed them before. "These will ensure you don't bolt again. You're chained to the foot of your bed, and the length is too short for you to do more than use the chamber pot. If I catch you trying to spring the lock, I really will beat you, headache or not."
"Aye, sir," Peter said faintly. He flinched when Hook's hand settled on the side of his face, then relaxed again when the man began stroking his cheek.
"Peter, you frightened me," Hook said gently. "I'm not used to fear, few creatures can instill it in me. Every time you had a nightmare, I knew. And it wrenched my heart that I couldn't be there for you. You're a wanted man around here, and I half expected to hear you'd been hung… especially after you left town." The hand grasped his chin firmly, "Do you know how many people I'd have to kill if you'd been hanged? I vowed to kill a ten-year-old for cutting off my hand. It would make your blood run cold to hear what I'd do to that town for killing my son."
"Aye, Captain," Peter answered, remembering how vindictive his father could be when someone crossed him.
"Don't 'Aye, Captain' me, boy," Hook growled. "We're alone and you're ill, and I'm not yer Captain right now."
Being chained to the bed and blindfolded was disturbing enough. Having his father looming over him in a volatile mood like this was scaring the hell out of him. The seesaw between compassionate concern and barely checked anger was confusing and dangerous, and his headache and nausea were getting worse by the second due to the conflicts. "Father," Peter whispered, shaking despite himself. "You're scaring me."
Hook narrowed his eyes, thinking perhaps Peter was being sarcastic. Then he noticed the boy's trembling, felt the panic building within him. I'm making this worse. He's ill. He sat back quickly, his anger draining away to nothing. "I'm sorry, son. I've had too long to stew over this. I don't want to keep you upset, or you'll relapse tonight." That was true and it could make things ugly. If Hook didn't back off, Pan could likely come forward next time Peter slept. While Hook remembered his vow not to fight Pan, he didn't believe Pan was coherent enough to remember. He took one of Peter's hands in his own and felt a bit reassured when Peter squeezed back.
"I'm sorry, son. I've done everything wrong. You know how much of an idiot I am when it comes to matters of the heart. I need you to know your past, so that when you actually remember it you won't be caught off guard. But when I told you, I let my old feelings get in the way, and it caused a misunderstanding. Yes, Peter, I did hate you once," Hook sighed at the pain he felt in Peter and continued, "but not anymore. People can change, and we both have changed so much. And yes, I am the reason you lost your memories. The thing I did to you, I did deliberately. I didn't foresee this as a consequence. Once you understand the events leading up to that, you'll understand why I tried to do what I did."
"It's okay, Father," Peter interrupted softly. "I'm not mad at you anymore about that. If we hated each other before, but could love each other this much after, then I'm glad I lost my past. It was getting in the way. I do want to know about myself," he smiled a bit, "I'm too curious for my own good. But I'd rather not know, not if it could drive us apart. I love you and I'll give up anything for you."
"I know, Peter," Hook answered, touched. "But if I don't restore you to your old self, you'll die." He nodded at the boy's gasp and continued. "I didn't tell you this because I didn't want to frighten you, but you need to know how serious this is. I told you I used magic to take you away. That magic is the reason we can sense each other, it bound us together." He saw the strange look on Peter's face and chuckled, easily guessing what the boy was thinking. "It didn't make us care for each other. By Pew, you still tried to kill me once after I put the spell on you, but it prevented you from harming me. I thought that if one of us died, the spell would break. I knew it would hurt the survivor, and I prayed that if I died you'd be able to cope with the loss, remember everything and go back to Neverland. I've been made aware, thought, that if one of us dies, we both will die."
Peter paled and for a moment he forgot about his headache. "So if I don't become Peter Pan again, we'll die? And if I do become Peter Pan, I might hate you and kill you then, too?" It sounded like a death sentence either way for his father, and he felt fear fill him again.
"You might hate me. Or you might forgive me and merely leave. Or you might decide it doesn't matter and stay with me anyway – Peter Pan and I learned to get along fairly well together." But his mind was split then, and his Peter half is the side that became my son. Pan never ceased to distrust and hate me. Hook was trying to calm Peter, to keep him calm while making him receptive to listening and learning, so he would give any reassurances he could. But Hook understood anger and hate, and he was thoroughly convinced that Peter would feel that way when he remembered. It saddened him; he'd like to think that love really could conquer all and that Peter's love would nullify his hate. But he wasn't going to give himself false hope. It would hurt him less to accept it now and not be surprised later.
Peter nodded, then gasped as the movement made him remember his headache. "Get out the book father. I'll listen to the whole story."
Hook chuckled and gave Peter's hand another squeeze. "There's my boy. I was afraid he'd been replaced by a coward."
"Coward!" Peter challenged, insulted.
"Aye," Hook growled, knowing Peter couldn't see his teasing smile. "I never taught you to run away from anything. Even your old self never backed down from something he was afraid of. But you ran away out of fear. Billy Jukes's angry words shouldn't have been enough to make you do something as cowardly and stupid as that."
Peter opened his mouth, then stopped and reconsidered. "I'm sorry, Father," he said at last. "I was angry and upset and I let him get to me. Feeling your hate, and then seeing that hate in his eyes… I couldn't face that. And if was who you said, then surely the crew would side with Billy? How could they not hate me if I cut off your hand and I nearly killed Billy? You, Billy, Smee, Mason, Mullins… all the old crew are my family. I'll die for you all, and I'll do it for love. But I can't lose you from hate… I can't lose my family, not again. I lost everything once and started over, I can't do it again."
Hook pulled Peter in his arms and hugged him tightly. "I forgive you, son. Will you forgive your father from being an insensitive bastard?" He smiled at the muffled affirmation Peter gave and released him. "But you're wrong. You're very adaptable and you can start over again." He resisted the urge to tell Peter that this had been the second time he'd lost him memory… it would complicate things too much.
"Now, lie down. Smee should be back soon with your food. He's upset, but its because he's been worried for you, not because he hates you. And he's disappointed that you didn't talk to him. You know Smee, he can't stay mad long."
Peter lay back and relaxed. He felt better, despite the pain in his head. Sure enough, Smee returned a few minutes later with his meal. Hook went out on deck, leaving the old man to help Peter.
Peter drank his broth in silence, letting Smee guide his hands to the food and enduring the embarrassment when the man kept wiping his mouth.
"Feel better, lad?" the bosun asked when Peter had finished eating.
"Yes, sir," Peter answered honestly. His nausea was gone and his headache was easing. I guess it has been awhile since I ate, hasn't it. "Thank you."
"Yer welcome, Mr. Hook," Smee growled. He saw Peter's face fall and felt a pang of guilt. He took the bowl from Peter and set a new bowl on the tray. "Ya need's yer strength and some comfort, so I figgered once yer stomach settled, ya could eat this."
"What is it?" Peter asked, putting out his hand tentatively.
Smee picked up a forkful of the cake and held it up. "Open yer mouth, laddie," he said gently. "It'll help ya feel better."
Peter obeyed and grunted in surprise when he tasted the chocolate cake Smee fed him. Chocolate was his favorite treat, and when he was younger Smee would always buy him chocolate cakes or candies if they'd been at sea for more than a few weeks, as a way to make him feel better. And the bosun always made sure that Peter had a chocolate birthday cake every year.
"Thank you, Poppy," Peter whispered, smiling happily.
Smee smile back at Peter's use of his nickname. The boy hadn't called him that since he turned fourteen. "Yer welcome, laddie. I was upset at ya, but I know ya've had a rough time of it and I ain't gonna make it rougher on ya. I loves ya too much fer that."
"I love you too, Poppy," Peter answered and took another bite that Smee offered him.
While Smee tended to Peter, Hook went down to check on Billy. The teen was sitting up in his bunk, sketching a design for an idea he'd come up with. Mullins was asleep in his hammock, so Billy and Hook kept their voices down.
"You look much better today," Hook greeted, sitting on the foot of the bed. He was beyond angry at Jukes right now for what he did to Peter, for encouraging him to run away. His son's condition right now was all Billy's fault. But he was willing to give the gunner the benefit of the doubt, a luxury he would never give any other man on this ship. It was possible his wits had been so addled that he really hadn't known what he was doing. And as upset as Peter had been, perhaps he'd misunderstood Jukes. So Hook was down here just to check on him, not to upset him. He had to keep repeating that to himself, so he wouldn't forget and strangle the boy.
There's something evil in me Cap'n, kill me and stop it, he wanted to say, but he had learned well by now that it was useless to fight. So instead, he made himself sound relatively cheerful. As long as he cooperated, the thing stayed quiet. "Feel better, Cap'n. I'm not so sleepy and my headache's gone. Haven't thrown up yet today, and I actually had a great idea for the cannons." All that was relatively true. Of course, the thing in his mine had chuckled in amusement at the initial idea he'd had for his design, disdaining anything that wasn't magical. It had soon become way too interested in its destructive potential, and had since been perusing Billy's store of scientific knowledge.
Billy shifted his sketch to show Hook, and began pointing out the modifications. "If I change this, I can make the shot go further and use less powder doin' it."
Hook smiled, feeling a wash of relief. He was fond of Jukes, but it would be a cold day before he admitted it. He'd watched this lad grow up alongside Peter, and he was proud of Billy. In addition to his natural worry over the boy, he'd also worried that he'd lost a valuable crewman. Billy was the best gunner to be had, and if he were ever caught he'd likely be able to avoid hanging by working a deal with the Crown and joining the Navy. He should be the best. He practiced for many years by shooting at child-sized targets at all ranges and heights. If Billy was back to inventing, he'd be fine in no time.
"I hope you'll feel well enough soon to try it out. I imagine you're anxious to be up and about," Hook replied, studying the sketch. This just might work. "As soon as you're ready, you have my permission to modify one of the cannons to try your design."
"How's Peter?" Billy asked hesitantly. He was worried for his friend, and he desperately need to know he was alright. And he knew his idea of avoiding Peter wouldn't work, the thing would just take over and make him get close. Better to see Peter on his own terms.
Hook put the sketch aside, taking this as another positive sign. Billy hadn't really asked about Peter since the incident, and had shown a disinterest in pretty much everything until today. Hook credited the pixie-dust in the boy's food for the improvement. "He's finally awake. I was worried he'd still be blind, after the way we found him. He can see, but his eyes are still sensitive. I'm keeping him blindfolded till he's recovered more. I think another good night's sleep will help him immensely."
"Robert said he hit me," Billy said, "and that's what wrong with me." Billy really didn't remember being hit, but he knew a silly punch wasn't his problem. *Oh, you've got the memory of him hitting you, would you like to see it?* the thing whispered. No, thank you, Billy snarled back at it.
"Aye," Hook nodded, "he was angry at me."
Billy gave a wry smile. "Yeah, I imagine he would be, from what Robert said you told him. I always worried that he'd be angry at me for helping you. He knew I kept your secret, but for me to keep up your lies about him being your son and about him bein' evil…" Billy sighed. "I'd have hit me too." He gingerly touched his cheek, "Just maybe not that hard."
"He didn't intend to hurt you this much. He wasn't thinking at all, I'll wager. It's still no excuse."
"I'll kick his ass for it later, when we're both up for the fight."
"And have you both out of commission again? I don't think so. Besides, you've both suffered enough for your crimes towards each other. He's worried you hate him and don't wish to be his friend again."
Billy frowned. "I'm pissed at him, yeah. But we've got too much history fer me to hate him over this. I was thinkin' he'd be the one to hate me."
"Trust me, he doesn't. But he's got a good reason to think you hate him." Billy looked at him in confusion, so he continued. "It seems you are the one that let him out of the brig. You gave him a food sack and told him we'd be happier if he went away. You told him I'd kill him."
Billy stared at Hook, not knowing what to say. The foulness leapt forward and responded for him. "I- I wouldn't…" His eyes widened in a semblance of fear. "Cap'n! You know I'd never…" Oh, you're good, Billy thought when he saw the nearly imperceptible softening of Hook's eyes, proof he believed the act. Billy knew perfectly well what his mouth had said to Peter that night, and he hated himself for being so weak to let himself say it.
"Billy," Hook held up his hand, indicating the boy should calm down. "You still don't remember saying that?"
Yes. *Shut up kid and let me work.* "NO! I remember taking to Peter on the deck. Then I woke up and Mullins said he'd run away." Billy hung his head. "You know when he's lying. Through that link you have with Peter, you can always tell. I suppose if you're asking me, then you know Peter wasn't lying."
"That's right," Hook answered. "I believe you let him out, and that you said those hateful things to him. But I also believe you weren't responsible for anything you said or did that day. You were badly injured and likely you were delirious when you spoke with Peter."
"Its my fault, Cap'n," Mullins said lowly, sitting up in his bunk. "I shoulda kept my eye on Billy. I left 'im alone 'cause I thought he was alright."
"We all contributed to this mistake, Mullins," Hook growled. "I should have been more careful in how I told him the truth. He shouldn't have been so childish about it. You, Jukes, know him well enough to have known to leave him alone. Mullins, you shouldn't have left Jukes alone. Peter should have shown more backbone instead of running away." Hook took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter right now. Too much is at stake to keep things complicated. Just let it go and be there for him. He considers the two of you his family, and he's afraid of losing his family over this." He glared at Mullins next. "I believed you and I need to talk about what you said to Peter that day."
Mullins flushed and looked away.
*Ooohhhh, what did he say?* the filth cackled, but let Billy in control now that the crisis was over. "Robert, what did you say?" Billy asked. He himself genuinely wanted to know, so he didn't mind obeying this time.
"I called 'im a demon… mentioned somethin' about him tryin' ta kill ya before," Mullins muttered.
"So I had to explain to him about the incident with Long Tom and his suicide attempt," Hook growled.
Billy stared at Mullins and processed what he'd just heard. It was a bit hard to think when something evil was laughing hysterically in your head. He thought back to that day, remembering Peter lying on the table while the men tried to staunch his bleeding. 'I'm sorry I killed you… wait for me and we'll go home together…' Peter had said. "He tried to kill himself because he thought he'd killed me… and of all the memories you could tell him, you told him about that? You both are a couple of IDIOTS!" Billy tossed his blanket aside and tried to get out of bed. Quit laughing and help me, he snarled. *Why?* Because I'm asking you to. And you'll have more options to keep us from Neverland if I can get back in Peter's good graces. He felt some of his weakness disappear and he stood on his own, swaying slightly. *Don't act too well too fast, or they'll think you've been faking. I don't want them expecting much out of you when I put the leash back on, puppy.*
"What do you think you're doing?" Hook growled. He chose not to respond to the idiot comment and pretend that the sick boy hadn't said it.
"I'm going to apologize to my best friend," Billy snapped.
"Ya got no business bein' outta bed!" Mullins snapped.
"Then help me, Robert. I'll sleep better when this is done."
Mullins looked to Hook and returned the Captain's nod. Together they helped the gunner out of the bed, and Mullins walked him to the Captain's Cabin.
When the made their way there, Peter was alone in the room, propped up by a few pillows. His head turned a bit when he heard the door open, but he left the blindfold in place. "Dad?" he called softly.
"Someone here to see you," Hook answered. Billy made his way to a chair by Peter's bed the men left the boys alone.
Billy stared at Peter's pale, drawn face. He looked worse with the blindfold on that he had yesterday when they brought him aboard. "How ya feelin', cully?" he asked softly.
Peter jumped when he realized it was his friend, and he turned to face where the voice came from. "I feel like shit," he answered. "I'm sorry, Billy. I know you don't care, but I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too, Peter," Billy answered, "and I do care. Yer my best friend and I love ya. I forgive ya for hittin' me. Will you forgive me for whatever it was I said you you? I don't remember sayin' it."
"I forgive you," Peter answered, sniffing a bit from the tears the blindfold was absorbing.
Billy shook his head, realizing that Peter was still upset. "You gonna be alright?"
"I'm scared, Billy," Peter whispered. "Everything's so wrong now. And it's going to get worse."
*What a baby. Is this what Peter Pan has been reduced to?* Shut up! Billy snarled to himself, He's worried that he might lose his family if he remembers. Isn't that what you played on to make him run away? That his love will turn to hate? Smiling to his friend, though he knew Peter couldn't see it, he nodded his head. "It might get worse, or it might get better. You just gotta face it and handle it one thing at a time. And if you need someone to talk to, you've got me." He chuckled a bit. "I know we're a little old for this, but we're both sick and we're practically brothers. Move over."
"What?" Peter asked.
"Make room. I'm tired and so are you. You're upset and worried, and ya need someone that cares to stay with ya. And so do I." When Peter slid closer to the wall, Billy climbed into the bed beside him. "Now we can talk. We're both comfortable and you can't run away."
"I can't run away," Peter muttered. "Father chained me to the bed." He rattled the shackles on his feet.
"No shit!" Billy grinned. *Oh this is too much fun. But I'll let you play with your friend.* "Blindfolded and chained… you know I could really torture you right now if I had the energy for it."
"Don't make me beat you. I can do it blindfolded," Peter growled. Both boys cracked up, Peter holding his head at the pain but not caring enough to stop laughing. They whispered together for a while until they finally relaxed and went to sleep.
Hook stared at the two youths in the bed for awhile when he returned to the cabin. He smiled a bit, remembering how they used to do this quite often when they were younger. If one was extremely upset, he would get up in the middle of the night and go to the other's bed to talk, and they'd inevitably fall asleep like that. He sat at his desk quietly and picked up a book. When Dria flew in the window, he offered her a bit of the food Smee had left him, and together they waited for Peter to recover.
"Cap'n?" Billy's groggy voice called from Peter's bed.
"Yes, Billy?" Hook answered, looking up from his charts. He saw Peter was sitting up in the bed.
"He's sayin' those words again; I think he's still asleep," Billy muttered. He really wanted to wake up, but he was so tired. But the thing was wide awake, and it was listening intently to the words, and Billy realized with a start that he could understand them.
"Don't touch him, it might set him off," Hook ordered as he crossed the room to the bed. He helped the gunner out of the bed and let him lie on the other one. Then he turned to his boy. "Peter?" he called softly. There was no answer, but Peter's mouth moved, whispering words in fey. "Pan?"
"Cod…fish," the boy said weakly. "Don't…"
"Lie back, son," Hook said as he put his arm behind the boy and helped him settle back onto the pillows.
"Tired… give up," Pan said as he allowed his enemy to tuck him in the bed. He gave a bit of a smile. "Tell Peter… I said… I'm sorry and… goodbye."
"What are you talking about, Pan?" Hook asked. He touched the boy's cheek gently. The utter despair he felt through the contact worried him.
Pan leaned into Hook's hand, letting the touch give him focus. "I can't… anymore. I wanted out, but… never got out. Tired. Lonely. I can go to sleep forever. Become a memory too. Cant die, but I can… stop being."
Hook felt his heart skip in his chest. If Pan had said this a few weeks ago, he'd have been estatic. But now he knew better. "No!" he called, gripping the boy tightly. "You can't! Pan, Peter needs you. I have to set you free, he'll die without you."
"You don't know… for sure. Maybe he'll be happy…. When I'm gone," Pan whispered.
"Pan?" Dria called, flying down to alight on his chest. "Captain Hook is right. Peter can't live if you disappear."
Pan was silent for a little while. "Pixie?" he said at last.
"Yes, Pan, I'm a pixie. I'm here to help Hook set you free."
"You're why I can… think when I'm out. Piece of Neverland."
"Really?" Dria blinked in surprise.
"Take me home," Pan asked her, his voice quivering.
"Not yet, Pan," Hook answered. "Please, promise me you won't give up. You have to stay longer. For Peter."
Pan gave a sob, "Not fair… everything for Peter… nothing for me." His body shook as he cried, the grief and pain flooding thought him. "I don't want to!"
Hook took the boy's hand and pressed the back of it to his lips. He needed to reach Pan, he had to make him stay. "Soon, boy, I promise. You've fought me this long, don't give up now."
"Your promises… lies," Pan hissed angrily. "Promised forever ago to let me out. Never came back."
"That was only three weeks ago," Hook answered.
"Forever and yesterday," Pan cried, but he began to calm. "Pixie… promise and I'll stay."
Dria kissed him on his cheek. "I promise, Pan. I will help you get out. We have to wait for that special day. Please wait."
"Okay," Pan sighed. "Still hate you, Codfish."
"That's fine, Pan," Hook answered mildly. I don't care how he feels, as long as he stays.
Pan frowned, "You're no fun… anymore." He looked llike he was going to say more, but then he sagged and his grip on Hook's hand lessened. His breathing deepened and they realized he was fast asleep.
Dria looked up at Hook. "How could he want to give up like that?"
"I can't blame him in the slightest," Hook answered. "I've seen his prison, and I've seen him inside it. I amazes me the child hasn't given up or gone mad long before now." He stood and turned to Billy, who was lying awake and watching them intently.
"Is Peter okay?" the boy asked him.
"He's fine. Are you feeling well yourself?"
Billy nodded as he sat up. "Lots better now."
"Come with me and I'll escort you to Mullins. I want my bed back."
Billy nodded and got up. He gave Peter another long look before he went with the Captain to his own bed. *Pan could make things a lot more interesting here when he gets out. That doesn't matter to me though, he's no more likely to get back than Peter is. You and I need to take care of that pixie, though. Something a bit more permanent.*