Grown Up

Summary: Peter never wanted to grow up. Then he did. Neverland will never be the same.
Warning(s): Disciplinary Spanking of an adult; D/s; M/m; sexual situations; Very AU. Mentions of death offscreen
Pairing: James Hook/Peter Pan (adult)

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The silence was deafening, here on his ship.

Hook poured another glass of brandy and swallowed it down, staring broodingly into the dying embers of the fire he'd lit. He had no fear of the ship burning; no matter how many times he'd tried, it seemed nigh on indestructible. Like Hook himself. Like Pan. The only two of them left in Neverland...or what remained of Neverland.

The brandy warmed him inside and the fire warmed him on the outside, but there were still parts of him that were cold, that neither fire nor brandy could touch. The hollow, empty spaces had been there since he'd first been shipwrecked on this accursed island, assuming that he'd found sanctuary...only to find a prison worse than any he'd experienced in his long life before.

Assuming those memories were real and not just images conjured by his tortured mind to fill the void left behind by everything he'd lost.

Staggering to his feet, Hook picked up the bottle of brandy. He thought, briefly, about hurling it into the fire. About trying, again, to set the ship ablaze and himself along with it...but he knew from bitter experience that all it would do was waste good brandy and who knew how long the magic of Neverland would keep the supplies stocked for?

Hook lurched from the cabin, making his way to the upper deck of the ship. He stood, looking out onto the shores of Neverland. Once white, shiny beaches with clear crystal blue water lapping gently against the sand, it was now all covered with debris. The waves crashed against the shore; against the ship. They threatened to send Hook flying, if he hadn't dug his hook into the rail to keep his balance.

Neverland was broken. The magic was dying. And yet Hook remained, still a prisoner, with only his ship and the ghosts of his crew to keep him company.

***

Peter sat on a bench in what had been the Lost Boys' hangout. He was the only 'Lost Boy' left, but he couldn't rightly call himself a boy any longer. His grown, adult frame was nearly enough to cause the child sized bench he sat on to break under him, had not the remnants of the magic kept it together. He had finally 'grown up'.

Not that it made much of a difference to the immortal being he was. but it was physical evidence that what had changed Neverland had changed him as well. Or was it the other way around? That what had changed him had also changed Neverland?

Everyone was gone: either returned to the realm of mortals, where children grew up, and grew old, and died; or dead. That's where the Lost Boys had fled after his mistake had... had.... Clenching his fist and standing rapidly enough to topple the bench and barely avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, Peter left the hideout.

He was alone and it felt pointless to hold Neverland together, but it was still his responsibility. What else would he do? Go to the mortal realm to die? He began down the path toward the ocean, where his old nemesis would have been, if the pirates hadn't gone the same path as everyone else he had lost.

***

Hook narrowed his eyes as he saw the figure picking its way along the beach. While the frame was taller, older, now an adult and not a boy, he recognized the movements. He knew the name of the one who'd kept him here.

Peter Pan.

Hook had avoided the only other one left in Neverland. He didn't know why he was still stuck here, when all the other pirates had escaped. Gone back to the mortal world. They were no longer prisoners, but Hook was. He was still trapped here, with no way to escape. No way to return home. If, of course, there was any home to return to. Who knew how much time had passed since he'd been imprisoned here?

Peter kept an eye, ever watchful. All the mortals were gone, but mortals hadn't been the only occupants of Neverland. He'd kept an iron grip on them when he was more powerful. Unfortunately, a large portion of his power was youthful optimism, exuberance, and belief in his own rightness. Events had diminished, if not destroyed, all three and as a result, his power had diminished too, freeing the beings he had been controlling. The fanciful mermaids, fairies and other magical creatures of childish daydreams had returned to the nightmares of doom, destruction, and death that original stories warned.

He looked around and saw the destruction. It looked as if a war had occurred, and that wasn't far from the truth. It had been a war of ideals and emotion, and in the end he'd lost. It was that loss that aged him; and resulted in Neverland turning into this wasteland. On the ocean, anchored not too far from shore, was the ship of the adults he had trapped for years. They had returned to the mortal realm, along with all the children.

Seeing the ship reminded him of the cruelty he'd done to those men. He'd needed an antagonist to 'fight'. What was an adventure without a nemesis? So, with all the childish capriciousness and lack of thought, he'd kept the men as 'pirates'. He'd even allowed one of the magical creatures, disguised as a crocodile, to act on its bloodthirsty nature. It had bitten off the hand of Hook, which made for a more dramatic enemy, even if it wasn't good for the man it happened to. Thinking on what he'd done caused guilt to prick at his conscience. Wherever they ended up, he hoped they did better and salvaged what was left of their lives.

Hook narrowed his eyes as he saw Pan's figure on the beach. What was the brat doing? He'd seen Pan from afar, but never up close. He didn't see the man the boy had become flying. Not anymore, at least. Did that mean the magic of flight had gone from Neverland? Or were adults simply unable to use the same power the children had so easily? Hook and his pirates had never been able to fly, but then again, why would Pan's enemies have the same abilities as Pan and his 'band' of warriors?

Hook drank more of the brandy, continuing to eye the figure on shore. Did Pan even know that he was left behind? That only the two of them were left here in Neverland? Or did his arrogance cause him to believe that the only creature with any humanity left here was himself?

The ship was rocking, and Hook's eyes narrowed further. This wasn't the normal gentle rock of the ship at sea. This rocking threatened to tip the ship, more so than his unsteadiness due to the drink. Peering over the side, he couldn't see much; a flash of a shimmering tail, hair the color of seaweed, flat eyes gleaming up at him from above mouths full of gleaming teeth.

Mermaids. Once playmates of Pan and the lost boys. Now sirens, ready to drown a man if they had the chance.

Hook set the bottle of brandy down and drew his pistol. Fired it into the water and heard a scream that sounded inhuman; a scream that could have made his ears bleed if he let himself be drawn into the sound. He fired into the water again and blue liquid, what passed for the mermaids' blood, drifted to the surface.

Dead, or wounded? He didn't know. Didn't care. All that mattered was that the dangerous rocking had stopped.

Peter's gaze whipped toward the ship, eyes widening then narrowing in shocked worry. One of the pirates was still here. Why had he not gone home with the others? Wish magic was the only magic any of the others had held on their own (and Peter had selfishly blocked it, not wanting his playmates to wish themselves back home and leave him alone). Had one of the pirates been unable to wish? Had Peter destroyed their hope that badly?

In either case, if the man remained on the ship, eventually one of the sirens would get him for their meal. He was the only man around, other than Peter, and Peter avoided the water. He supposed the mortal realm was lucky Peter's long control over the nightmare creatures had erased their ability to go to the mortals' oceans; erased their ability or their memory of how to get there. Maybe that was the lone pirate's problem. Had he forgotten the way home?

Shaking his head, Peter began to look for a way to get out to the ship so he could convince the mortal to come to land where it was safer, even if it wasn't safe.

There was still a rowboat anchored to the shore, close enough and just big enough to hold two, even if it would be a tight squeeze and not entirely comfortable.

Hook was peering over the side of the ship, making sure there were no more sirens coming to immediately attack him. Maybe it would be easier to just let them take him. Drag him down into the depths with them and drown him. Maybe death would be easier, rather than staying in this accursed place, alone with the being who had held him trapped here.

Slowly, Hook turned the pistol towards his own body...contemplating whether he was ready to pull the trigger yet or not.

Peter had quickly found the rowboat and began the short trek to the larger vessel. He arrived and clambered up the side just in time to see what Hook was doing. "Hook! Don't!" he called out, in real fear. The thought that another person would die- and at the heart of it all, it was his fault- was an unbearable thought.

Surprised, Hook lowered his pistol and turned to glare at Pan. Adult now the being might be, but Hook was still taller and, he liked to believe, still an imposing figure underneath it all. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, wondering if he dared try turning the pistol on Pan. It probably wouldn't work, though, even if the act might make him feel better. And if it did work, then he'd be the only living soul left on the island...save for the monsters, no longer able to hide under their pretty faces.

Peter swallowed, only slightly relieved that Hook was no longer holding the pistol to his head. Now that the man's attention was focused on him, he realized that, though he had grown, Hook was still larger than him and likely physically stronger. And given Peter's diminished power, he would find it difficult to escape Hook, or anything he might choose to do. For the first time in his immortal life, Peter might be truly overpowered and made to pay for his actions.

It was frightening, although not as scary as Peter thought it probably should be. He knew he couldn't die in Neverland, not from old age, but he'd never been in a position where he was in danger of being killed. It theoretically was possible Hook could exact his revenge by shooting, and Peter would die. Was that why Hook was still here? Had his desire for revenge been greater than his wish to go home? "You... You're still here..." he said inanely, not voicing any of his questions or confusion at the fact, though it was clear he had plenty of both.

Hook frowned at that, pistol wavering in his hand; although whether that was a result of the brandy he'd drunk, the bottle still at his feet, or because he was truly hesitant to take a shot...it was difficult to say. "You sound surprised. Was it not your will that kept me here, Pan? When all others were able to leave?" He was bitter, angry, and it came clear through his voice. In the tension that held his body, rigid and on edge.

"I no longer have the power to keep anyone here... That is why they all left me," Peter said, childish petulance heavy in his tone, with a hint of lonely hurt underneath. He'd truly believed the Lost Boys happy with him, even though he'd expected the pirates to leave as soon as they were able. "If you are still here, it isn't because of me... Your wish to leave should have taken you far from here. Unless you lost the ability to wish...." He eyed Hook uncertainly.

"My wish," Hook echoed, before shaking his head. "Even if I were to wish to leave, there would be nothing left for me in the world I came from. The man I am now, the man you made me into, has no place there anymore."

Peter swallowed again, wincing at the accusation. "I didn't make you into nothing... It was all play. The other pirates went home... Not my fault you didn't want to." His voice wasn't as confident as the words. He had no real clue where the other pirates ended up. Or how much of what Hook became was a direct result of Peter's actions. "Anyway... Now I ain't got control of the creatures... The ol' croc.... He's back to being his fully bloodthirsty self. We gotta get off the boat and to land, where he and the sirens can't go...."  He motioned toward the rowboat.

Hook eyed Peter, his sense of distrust obvious. "You let your pet crocodile bite off my hand." He held up the hook that now adorned it. "How do I know you don't plan to push me overboard and let it finish the job? You certainly tried enough to kill me enough times in your 'games'."

Peter looked offended at that. "It was make-believe!" he protested. "Wasn't ever gonna really kill you for reals!" He rubbed his ear and did look uncertainly at the hook. "He... He got away from me for a little, when he took your hand. I didn't mean for it to be really bad. Just wanted you to look like a scary pirate and... The magic did the rest. I didn't know it would really hurt you or... Or last forever...."

"Well. It did both of those things." Hook wasn't cruel...not really, despite what the 'make-believe' had pushed him towards. By a certain point, he was just desperate for it to end. But Peter clearly hadn't understood the consequences of his actions. And he needed to understand them. Immortal being or not, now an adult or not, he clearly lacked that understanding.

Another, harder push against the ship threatened to send Hook flying and made up his mind for him. He put the pistol away and grabbed for his bottle of rum, then gestured towards the rowboat. "Don't try anything. Or I'll throw you overboard," he said.

Peter made a face at the threat, grumbling under his breath about, "Wanna see you try..." but he quickly walked to the ladder and climbed down to the rowboat, expecting Hook would follow. He kept a wary eye on the water, nervous that the siren would notice the movement to the smaller boat. A rowboat would be much easier to capsize, after all.

Hook quickly moved down the ladder to the rowboat, scaling easily with only one hand, his bottle of brandy tucked under his arm. Once they were both in the boat, he set the bottle down and drew out his pistol once more. "You take care of rowing. Any of them try anything, I'll fend them off."

"Who made you all Mr. Bossy-pants?" Peter grumbled softly. He didn't balk at doing as ordered, though. It made sense that he row, after all. He had both hands. Whatever magic had worked in Peter's favor in the past was evidently still working in his favor, since they quickly made it to shore without drawing the attention of the dangerous denizens of the ocean. As soon as they hit the sand, Peter was out of the tiny boat and pulling it far enough onto shore, it couldn't be caught by the tide.

"C'mon! I'll show you the tree house!" He grinned in excitement, before frowning slightly as he looked up and down Hook's body. "You'll hafta duck... You're kinda tall..." he added more hesitantly, forgetting that he himself had begun to need to duck when in the house.

Hook snorted softly as he began to follow Peter. "You're taller than you were. Grown up now. I'm surprised you don't have to duck." He kept a wary eye out, bottle of brandy tucked under one arm and his pistol in hand. He might have decided not to kill Peter, but like the boy said. There was a lot of other danger around. "Did you change them in the first place?" he asked, assuming Peter would know what he was talking about.

Peter wasn't worried in the least, though maybe he should have been. "Change who?" he asked curiously, before asking, in a thoughtful voice as if it had just occurred to him, "The sirens?" He wrinkled his nose.

"And the fairies, from whatever they are now," Hook said. "The sirens were mermaids before. Was that your doing?"

Peter's nose wrinkled further in confusion, then he pouted. "I don't know... I don't remember them changing the first time, only this time. Prolly?" He hunched in on himself not liking to be reminded that there were things he didn't know or had forgotten. He also picked up his pace. He might feel safer on land, but night was rapidly approaching, and it wouldn't do to be on the path when it was too dark to see.

Hook just shook his head and continued to follow the being who, despite being probably centuries older, if not more than him, continued to act more like a petulant child. "Do you have any lanterns in the tree house? Any form of light at all? If not, we need to make that a priority. A lot of things that come out at night fear the light. Or fire." But there was always the risk of fire getting out of control.

Peter bit his lip. "A tiny lantern... But... It was getting dimmer last night. Tink always took care of the lanterns..." he added, giving Hook a hopeful look. Peter didn't like being in the dark. It made him nervous, bordering on frightened, though he’d never admit that to the pirate.

Hook didn't ask what had happened to Tink, assuming the fairy had gone the same way as all the other magical creatures on this island. Instead, he said, "It'll need fuel. Gather some twigs. If the light hasn't gone out already, I might be able to make it brighter."

"Oh! Of course! Why didn't I think of that? I'm a silly head!" Peter grinned happily, quickly beginning to gather twigs while they walked. When they finally reached the treehouse, he had an armful of the potential kindling. He stepped into the 'lift' and looked at Hook expectantly. "C'mon! I'll pull us up!" he said, taking hold of the rope pull after setting the wood down by his feet.

Hook held his tongue against the comment he'd nearly made; that Peter's memory seemed to be failing him. A result of the many long years he'd lived, or was it related to the problems here in Neverland? After all, Hook could remember very little of his own life before being stranded here.

Stepping into the makeshift lift, Hook tucked his pistol back into his belt and took a long swig of the brandy. He should probably be making it last, but he was willingly entering the home of someone who'd made him an enemy, for no reason other than a childish want for adventure and fun. He needed the brandy to fortify him. Even if he couldn't get drunk from it.

Peter frowned at seeing Hook drinking but didn't say anything. He quickly pulled the rope, the lift rising. As soon as they'd reached the treehouse, he tied them, then picked up the kindling again, leading Hook into the small dwelling. And promptly hit his head on the door frame as he walked through. "Ow! Dang it!" He dropped the kindling onto the floor and rubbed his head, a sulky pout on his face. "Wendy woulda kissed it better..." he mumbled, before a stricken look crossed his face and he shut his mouth with a click, going to look for the lantern.

Hook noticed the comment, the look and the quick cut-off of saying anything else but didn't comment on it. Peter had already said that the lost boys had left him. He assumed Wendy and her brothers had left as well and that Peter's attitude was the child in him sulking because his friends had all left him.

Picking up some of the kindling after setting his brandy down, Hook waited for Peter to bring him the lantern.

Peter didn't take long to find the lantern and bring it to Hook. He really didn't like being in the dark. Handing it to the other man, he offered, "Are you hungry? I could get food together....  I have marshmallows and crumpets and cookies and jellybeans and licorice and..." He rattled off numerous other 'edibles' that weren't healthy.

"That might do for tonight, but starting tomorrow, we'll be eating more healthy food that's actually good for you." Hook began to feed the twigs into the lantern, adding more fuel to make the flame brighter. "I don't have a lot of ammunition left, so I'll have to make traps."

Peter scrunched up his nose at the mention of healthy food but didn't argue. Truthfully, his body didn't seem to handle all the sweets as well as it used to. Maybe eating some of the vegetables Wendy had planted would be good. Even if he didn't want to think about her.

"Anyway. Food isn't the most important thing right now. Unless you're hungry?" Hook put the lantern down and looked inquiringly at Peter.

"No. I'm not hungry..." Peter said. He hadn't really been hungry much ever since everything fell apart.

"Then there's no reason to put this off any longer." Hook looked around the tree house, taking note of the small mattress that was barely enough for one person, let alone two. Still, it would do for the purpose he currently had in mind. Closing his fingers around Peter's wrist, he began to lead the being towards the mattress.

"Put what off? What are you doing?" Peter asked in confusion, trying to pull his arm free, even as he followed Hook toward the mattress.

"I had the option to kill you on the ship...or at least try to," Hook said. "But despite what you've done, despite everything you caused, I don't think you're evil. But you need to learn that actions have consequences. That your actions have consequences. Even if those consequences are a well-deserved sore bottom." He took a seat on the mattress and immediately deposited Peter across his lap.

Peter yelped and immediately began to squirm. "Lemme up!" he whined, not fully believing Hook would do as he was saying.

"Your actions are more deserving of punishment than any I have ever seen before. You're fortunate that tanning your hide is all I intend to do." Hook used his arm that ended in the hook to hold Peter down, while he used his flesh hand to tug Peter's britches down.

"But I didn't mean to be bad! It was an accident!" Peter protested, still squirming. For some reason, he couldn't seem to get loose, though. It was as if the magic of the place had decided Hook was right.

"Accident or not, you still harmed people. You still trapped them here against their will. Kept them prisoner for your own amusement." Hook began to smack Peter's bare bottom, using his arm to hold the younger in place.

The wail Peter expelled at the first smack was loud enough, and drawn out enough, that had any other human still been on the island, they would have come running to see who was being killed. Peter's struggles became even more frantic, and he immediately began sobbing. "Ooooow! No more! I'm sorry! I'll be good!" He attempted to convince Hook to stop.

Hook was certain that the spanking did hurt-he wasn't using his full strength, but he wasn't really holding back either-but he was just as certain that Peter was overreacting. He wrapped his arm a bit more firmly around the other's waist and continued to smack firmly, spreading the swats out evenly, working over Peter's backside from the crest down to mid-thigh.

Peter's wails and sobs grew louder as he realized they'd had no effect on the Captain. His wriggling was at the same strength, though; Hook's grip was too firm and sure to easily be got out of. "My bottom is burning!" he declared dramatically. "I'll never sit again..." he choked out.

"You'll heal," Hook replied. "A sore bottom isn't permanent. It isn't maiming or killing." He gently pressed his hook against Peter's side; not enough to pierce cloth or skin, but to remind Peter that what had been done to him was permanent and would never heal.

Peter's struggles immediately stilled as he felt the hook pressed gently against him, reminding him that Hook had lost a part of himself that he could never get back because Peter had lost control. He didn't stop wailing or sobbing, but he noticeably stopped trying to get away.... And the wails and sobs began to sound more genuine and less an affectation, even if they were still an overreaction.

Hook didn't move his hook away from Peter's side, leaving it there as a reminder of why he was doing this. He continued to swat, turning Peter's bottom a warm pink in color and then a darker shade.

Eventually, the sting of the spanking turned into an ache...and then a burning ache. "It... It hurts..." he choked out, in a hopelessly forlorn whisper. It was clear he didn't know how to deal with what Hook was doing, not physically- since he couldn't break free- or emotionally. By the time his bottom was shading to crimson, the over reactionary wails and sobs had lost their strength. Now the sobs were completely genuine, and the wailing had stopped, as his voice began to weaken along with his energy levels.

"It's deserved." Hook's voice was stern, though not cruel. "You deserve punishment, Peter. For the people you hurt, the children and adults you stole away from their family...from those who would miss them. You thought of nothing but your own selfish wants and not the damage you were inflicting on people less powerful than you."

"They... They were missed? I miss them!" Peter blubbered. "I didn't mean to hurt them... Didn't mean t... To hurt you... Not really... F.. fer reals!" By this point, he was still, twitching with each smack, but not actively trying to get away. even a little.

"You did hurt me, Peter. Intentionally or not, you took away my hand. You not only made me a prisoner here, you turned me into a villain. And then all you did was attack me and use your powers against me." Even though Peter was no longer fighting or resisting, Hook wasn't prepared to stop the punishment. Not yet. He began to smack a bit harder and a bit faster, turning the crimson color a darker red.

Peter didn't have a response to that. It was all true, after all. He hadn't thought of what he was doing to Hook while doing it. It had been a game for him. A lark. But it had been the other man's life. He had ruined the other man's life without any concern or care at all. Hook was right. He did deserve to be punished. He didn't say anything else; no defense or protest or begging words. The wails ceased all together and the sobs quietened to soft, hitching moans. Even the twitches calmed as Peter gave up. Hook would punish him until Hook felt he'd had enough. Peter wasn't sure there ever would be enough punishment to cover the evil he'd done against everyone.

Hook continued the harder swats for a couple more circuits, ensuring that the spanking would be felt during the night and well into the next day. Then, he stopped. He moved Peter carefully, so that Peter was nestled on his lap, no weight resting on his sore bottom. And he held him, close and tight.

This wasn't going to be the only spanking Peter would receive. But Hook wouldn't be cruel and withhold comfort, even if he wasn't yet at the point of being able to offer forgiveness.

Peter just whimpered and moaned softly, leaning into Hook weakly, quivering. He wasn't stupid enough to believe he was forgiven, or that Hook even cared about him, but the man was offering comfort and Peter was too broken inside (even if Hook didn't know) to refuse that comfort. He didn't apologize again. He doubted he'd be believed; and after having his horrific behavior pointed out so clearly, he realized his previous apologies were just excuses trying to get out of a spanking.

He tiredly wiped at his eyes and sniffled. "Y... You t... Take the bed..." he whispered, in a tear roughened voice, preparing himself mentally to stand, grab a blanket and lay on the cold, hard floor.

"No," Hook replied firmly. "The bed might not be that big, but I've slept in far worse conditions. We will share it." The decision was made with little thought. He suspected Peter still needed comfort. Despite everything the other being had done, Hook couldn't ignore that Peter was in obvious pain and turmoil 

Peter quivered again. "W... Why?" His tone was that of a confused child. Even though he was grown physically, he'd spent too many eons acting childishly to immediately 'grow up', even if he needed to. "Why would you be nice to me? After everything I did?" He noticeably didn't pull away, though, leaning on the larger man like a clingy monkey.

Hook tightened his embrace around Peter. "You deserve to be punished. This isn't the only spanking you will receive. You've done too much wrong for one to cover everything, no matter how painful." His hand was rubbing gently over Peter's back, lightly rubbing over his sore, heated bottom.

Peter quivered again as the sore flesh was rubbed. Rubbing reignited the sting, but he didn't pull away. Emotionally, he needed the gentleness. He dreaded the moment he would have to pull his breeches back up.

"You don't need to put your breeches back on," Hook said. "Even if you're cold, there are blankets to use for warmth while we sleep. It'll be more comfortable for you."

Peter sniffled. "Okay... Th... Thank you," he whispered, remnants of manners rising to the surface. Any natural tendency toward boisterousness or willfulness was subdued and he was attempting to behave in a manner that wouldn't encourage further chastisement, especially not when Hook had already promised more spankings.

"I know you said you haven't eaten much," Hook said. "Tomorrow, that will change. Tomorrow, I will gather food and hunt. Tonight, though, we rest. Sleep." He eased back on the bed, gently pulling Peter down with him, and covered them both with a blanket.

Peter's boots and leggings had come off when he was struggling to break free, so it took little effort to snuggle as close as Hook would allow- for warmth, Peter told himself- and quickly fall asleep. The whole experience had tired him out completely.

Hook wrapped his arms tight around Peter, though it took him a bit longer to fall asleep. He hadn't really expected the turn things had just taken but considering his actions...he believed he'd done the right thing. Eventually, he too fell asleep; though it was more of a light doze, his dreams haunted by images and memories he couldn't quite grasp.

***

Peter's sleep was plagued by faint dreams that he couldn't remember whenever they woke him. As a result, he was very grumpy when morning came. Grumpy and sore and a lot unsettled. He tried to act with the childish bravado that he'd always displayed to Hook, however, carefully getting up and gathering his breeches before trying to look over his shoulder to see how bad 'the damage' to his bottom was. "It still hurts!" he whined accusingly at Hook, though there was a small hint of confusion in his tone. The magic had always allowed him to quickly heal before.

"It hurts because it's deserved. Because it's punishment given for the naughty things you've done." Hook could have used the word bad. Perhaps he would have, before. But now, he didn't want to emotionally hurt Peter. Yes, he'd spanked the other; and would again, until forgiveness was possible. But he didn't intend to harm him.

Hook gathered his pistol and moved towards the exit of the treehouse. "I'm going to see what I can gather for breakfast. Are any of the streams still safe to take water from?" If not, he was going to have to figure out a way of keeping them both watered.

Peter didn't argue about the hurt being deserved. As much as he'd claimed he didn't mean for his actions to end so badly for those he'd done things to...he couldn't pretend he hadn't been wrong to do those actions. Not anymore. Between magic deserting him, his 'friends' deserting him, and Hook punishing him while explaining why in exact details... Peter had to admit he'd been and done very wrong, bad things. Or admit it at least to himself. Quickly finishing dressing and putting on his own shoes, Peter grabbed his dagger and bow and made to follow Hook.

"There is a stream nearby that didn't have any Fae living near it...." He grinned boyishly. "I can show you!" he said, eager to do something that might make Hook happy. Maybe if the older man was happy, he'd stay with Peter and not leave if he discovered a way out. Even if it meant a spanking every morning and evening for the rest of his life, Peter would accept it over being alone.

Hook nodded. "You can show me. Then you can help me hunt down anything that we can use for food." He hadn't eaten much himself, relying on the brandy to keep his stomach feeling full. But he'd not had any of the alcohol since before arriving in the treehouse and now...he was leaving it behind.

Shaking his head, Hook stepped into the makeshift lift and waited for Peter to lower them. "I take it you can no longer fly anymore?" He wasn't asking to be cruel or upset Peter. If he was going to take care of them both, he needed to know what skills they had access to.

Peter glanced away, blushing, and biting his lip. "No... I got too big to fly..." he offered, though it was clear he didn't think his size had anything to do with it. He thought maybe the magic was punishing him, like Hook had decided to punish him. He didn't say that though.

He quickly but carefully lowered the lift.

Hook nodded, not all that surprised, as he suspected Peter would have flown if he could. Once the lift was on the ground, Hook got out and then waited for Peter to lead the way to the stream.

Peter quickly led Hook to the stream. It was clean and fast moving, so drinking from it wasn't worrisome. After taking several gulps of water, Peter began to pick berries on the nearby bushes hedging the stream.

Hook quickly drank from the stream, after making sure that there were no bodies of animals, or dead plants surrounding it. He then filled his waterskin with the water before straightening and nodding approvingly at Peter's actions. "Berries are good," he said encouragingly. "If you gather some to bring with us, you can help me set some traps." He looked carefully to see if there were any fish in the stream they could catch.

Peter nodded rapidly. Luckily, he'd thought to bring a small cloth bag to put the berries in. He'd also filled a small water skin. He noticed Hook observing the stream. "A little further downstream from here is a small pool that leads to a tiny waterfall. Fish like the pool area..." he said helpfully.

Hook nodded. Looking around, he noticed some fairly sturdy branches that he could probably make into a fishing rod. He broke one off and used his hook to whittle down what he didn't need.

Peter watched curiously. He'd never actually fished himself, though he'd seen others do it (the pirates from a distance, or Tiger Lily's tribe when they allowed).

"Did you finish?" Hook gestured towards the berries. He was unwilling to leave Peter alone even briefly. Peter might not be a child anymore...was probably so much older than he was...but Hook couldn't help feeling protective over him.

Peter blinked, then quickly looked at all the bushes. "Got all the ones that are purple!" he declared happily. "Green ones taste awful!" he added. He looked at Hook expectantly, as if he thought the older man knew what to do. For being immortal and having been in Neverland for so very long, he really didn't know much about survival; most likely because he hadn't needed to survive. Magic had done most everything for him. What it didn't do had been provided by stealing from the pirates.

"I'll show you how to fish," Hook said. "You can try your hand at it while I set up some traps." He began to move further downstream, having prepared the fishing rod as best he could. Once he was close to the pool, he used his hook to dig in the dirt for worms.

"Oh! Let me help!" Peter quickly dug into the soil, deftly pulling out two to three worms and proudly holding them up for Hook to inspect 

"That's very good, Peter." Hook smiled encouragingly. "Now, this next bit might be a little tricky...." He showed the other man how to use the worm as bait.

Peter watched closely, nose and mouth squinched up in concentration. When Hook dropped the line into the water, he grinned. "If a fish bites...?"

"You pull back." Hook demonstrated. "Don't worry if any get away. It happens. Do you want to try?" he asked.

"Yes!" Peter was eager. Carefully taking the makeshift rod, he watched the water for if a fish bit.

Hook moved back, watching, as, after a few moments, there was a tug on the line...as if something had bitten.

"Oh!" Peter's eyes widened and he quickly yanked up on the line, his excitement clear in the exuberant action.

"Gently," Hook cautioned, an affectionate note creeping into his voice.

Peter swallowed and immediately gentled the movement... Just in time, as the fish would have escaped had he not listened. He let out a slow breath as he carefully lowered the fish onto the grass, far enough away from the pond it couldn't flop back in and get away. He then turned stricken eyes toward Hook as he saw the fish struggling to breathe. "I'm hurting it!" he said in a horrified tone. For all the people he'd harmed with his actions, this was the first creature he was directly harming; and seeing the results of that unexpectedly hurt.

Hook placed his flesh and blood hand on Peter's shoulder and gently turned the other away, so that he wouldn't see Hook quickly using his hook to kill the fish. "I know it's difficult to see," he said quietly, his voice gentle and soothing rather than accusing. "Sometimes, it's necessary to cause pain. We couldn't survive here if we didn't take what we need from the animals."

Peter was crying by this point; a lot harder than seeing a fish (that they needed for food) die warranted. He quickly wiped at his eyes and smiled crookedly. "I'll make sure its death isn't for no reason..." he whispered, a hint of forlorn unhappiness underlying his tone.

Gently, Hook ran his fingers through Peter's hair, stroking it in a way that, although might have once felt alien to him, now felt natural. "We have berries. And the fish is big enough that, along with the berries, it'll do for breakfast. We can set up traps later."

Peter nodded, taking a shaky breath. "Okay..." he whispered, instinctively pressing his head into Hook's hand.

Hook continued the gentle stroking, surprised to find that it settled something inside of him to touch the other in this way. Or maybe it was Peter allowing it that caused the feeling. He allowed his hand to drop to the nape of Peter's neck, rubbing it for a few moments before he reached out to pick up the fish. Reluctant to stop giving affection, he wrapped his other arm around Peter's shoulders.

Peter swallowed and grabbed the bag of berries and his bow that he'd left close by and walked back to the treehouse with Hook. If he was pressing closer than was necessary, Hook didn't seem to mind.

Hook kept his arm wrapped around Peter's shoulders, letting his arm rub gently over the other man's back, as they reached the lift and stepped inside it to return to the treehouse.

Peter carefully pulled the rope, so the lift rose to the treehouse, tying it off. He pointed to a tiny 'fire-pit' where they could cook the fish. It was in an area cleared of close by branches and the floor had been covered with stone slabs, so that the floor underneath would not catch fire. Wendy had arranged for it to be made so she could cook for the Lost Boys. He had been avoiding that spot because it reminded him that he'd been left. The thought of eating raw fish did not appeal, though.

Hook put down the fish and began working on building the fire. "Would you like me to show you how to prepare the fish?" His voice was still gentle. Seeing Peter's reaction to the fish dying had awoken a protective instinct inside him.

Peter took a slow breath and straightened, obviously trying to be brave. "I prolly better learn... Just in case..." he agreed. Who knew how long Hook would be with him before his wish magic finally kicked in and the older man was gone, leaving Peter alone?

"If you feel up to trying it, we can do so with the next fish we catch." Hook began to show Peter how to clean and gut the fish. He'd long since adapted to only having the one hand. At least his hook allowed him to hold the fish steady and make things easier.

It was easier to watch Hook prepare the fish, knowing that the fish was dead and didn't feel anything. He watched closely. "I think I can do it..." he said softly; not quite as confident as he normally was, but still confident.

Hook nodded. "I know that you're not used to killing to eat, and that the idea is distressing to you, but it is an unfortunate necessity. Neither of us can survive on sweets for very long." He cut the fish and speared pieces onto two sticks so that he could cook them over the fire. "I think I have some memories of herbs that are safe to consume. When we go back out, I'll see if any of them are growing. The food will taste better with more flavor."

"Okay..." Peter's voice was soft. Accepting. As difficult as it was, he knew Hook was right. Magic had turned on him. If he tried to survive on sweets like he had before everything went wrong, he'd likely be ill in no time. He watched as Hook cooked the fish, his stomach grumbling at him as the smell wafted in the air.

When the fish was cooked, Hook handed one of the sticks to Peter and kept the other for himself. He began to eat, hungry now that he wasn't lining his stomach with so much alcohol.

Peter watched Hook for a second, then copied him in the way he was eating.

Once he was finished eating, Hook dropped his stick into the fire. Taking out the waterskin, he held it out to Peter to drink from first if he wanted.

Peter also had his water skin and held it up, but couldn't help asking, "Is yours different? Does it make it taste better?"

"No. It just hasn't contained water in quite a while," Hook replied. "I normally put brandy in it. Or whiskey."

Peter made a face at that. "I snuck a taste of your water skin one time I snuck on board your ship. It tasted ick...."

Hook snorted softly. "I don't expect you'd like the taste of either. Just as well, really. I drink it because sometimes it helps me remember. But it's not caused me to get drunk since I came here to Neverland."

"What do you remember?" Peter hesitantly asked. He didn't want to remember. Maybe Hook was the same.

"Only bits and pieces," Hook replied. "A lot of my memories from before have been lost. I remember my first name, I think. Though I don't remember the people who called me by it."

"What is your name?" Peter asked, a tiny smile on his face. Giving your first name meant you were more than just acquaintances. It meant you could possibly be friends.

"James," Hook answered, a slightly sad note creeping into his voice. It was the first time he'd said his own name out loud...but that was all there was. He knew the title of Captain Hook didn't belong to him, but he didn't know what came after James.

"James..." Peter's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Do you not like your name? You sound...sad."

"I only remember James," Hook replied. "Once, I could have told you my first and last name. Captain Hook was what everyone called me and eventually, it drove my true name out of my mind." Perhaps whatever had broken Neverland had enabled his real first name to slip through the cracks in his memory.

Peter winced, looking down. "I called you that... A scary name for a scary enemy..." he whispered. "Only you aren't... Just... Just another way I hurt you...." He could admit it now. After hearing everything from James' point of view while being spanked, it was impossible not to know and see all the ways he'd messed the older man's life up.

"It wasn't just me," James said, his voice quiet. "You acted as a child, with no thought to the others around you. That's the main reason for my chosen use of punishment. And spankings might hurt, but you recover from them, and they don't do any permanent or even lasting harm."

"I was a horrible, bad brat..." Peter whispered. "I hurt everyone... Cuz I didn't wanna be alone. Didn't wanna grow up. Didn't wanna... Listen... When I was told no...."

"I won't disagree that you were a brat," James replied. "But I would say that you were naughty, rather than truly bad." A gentler, sympathetic note slipped into his voice as he said, "I understand not wanting to be alone. But you can't make someone stay with you by forcing them to."

Peter gave James a very sad smile. "I was the naughtiest brat ever. I thought if I was able to make them stay... That's all that mattered."

"You don't need to force someone to stay with you so that you're not alone," James said quietly.

"I didn't know how else to get them to stay. None of them wanted to stay..." Peter admitted; not trying to justify himself but trying to explain.

"But forcing them wasn't the answer." James' voice was still gentle, even though it was slightly stern.

"Even though I really, really wanted it... It was wrong..." Peter reluctantly admitted. "S'why you spanked me... Cuz I was selfish and forced everyone to do what I wanted. W... why you'll spank again..." he whispered, remembering what Hook had said would happen.

"Until you've paid," James replied. "Until the slate's wiped clean. But I won't leave you. Even if the ability to wish, as you called it, comes to me...I'll stay here. With you," he promised.

"Even if you could go home?" Peter turned uncertain eyes on James.

"Even if I could go back to my world, it wouldn't be the same," James answered. "Too much time has passed. And I'm needed here."

"If your wish returned... Maybe you could wish enough for both of us..." Peter swallowed. "Neverland is turning scarier...."

James nodded. "If it does and it's possible, we'll both go. Otherwise, we both stay," he said simply.

"Why? After everything I did wrong? You should hate me...." Peter wiped furtively at his eyes, starting to cry.

Seeing the tears, James winced. He moved closer to Peter and gently pulled the other man into his arms, cuddling him more or less on his lap. "I don't hate you," he said. "You were naughty, and you did things you shouldn't have, but I suspect you didn't think about the consequences of your actions until it was much too late."

"I didn't think there were consequences... Not till..." He paused, wrapping his arms around James and clinging. "...Until everything started falling apart and everyone was leaving. And then it was too late to do anything diff'rent...." He swallowed. "I know it doesn't make it better. Doesn't make me less... Naughty... But I'm sorry for what I did to you. It never seemed real, but now I see how real it all was and... I'm so sorry...."

"I believe you're sorry." James held Peter close. As he had when the other man had cried over the fish, he stroked his flesh hand through Peter's hair, rubbing the back of his head. "I will punish you. I will spank you. But it won't be forever. And you will be forgiven," he promised.

Peter sniffled. "Okay... I... I know I deserve it..." he whispered. Stepping back, he wiped his eyes before seemingly coming to a decision. James was making numerous promises to him that not only did he not have to make but was providing comfort to the brat who had spent forever tormenting him. The least Peter could do was acknowledge everything and accept what he had coming. Quickly, he toed off his shoes, then shoved his breeches down, taking them off and leaving them in a pile on the floor while he walked back to James and hesitantly lay over the older man's lap.

James was honestly surprised by Peter's actions, having not expected that, even if Peter had accepted that punishment was deserved. He didn't make the other get up, though. Instead, he gently rubbed low down on Peter's back before moving his hand down, placing it gently on the still pink, still warm bottom. After rubbing gently for a few moments, almost in comfort, he began to firmly pat, knowing Peter was sore enough that he didn't need to be all that harsh to make the punishment effective.

Peter quivered at the gentleness, feeling the care James was taking even though Peter had done so much wrong. It caused the tears to return. He was already crying hard by the time James began patting. His sore bottom reignited into stinging pain and he couldn't help but begin to softly sob. He didn't try to get away, though. He'd been honest about understanding. He deserved to be spanked, no matter how sore he was.

James couldn't rub Peter's back with his other hand since it was no longer there. He did what he could, though, pushing up his own sleeve and Peter's shirt up in back, so that he could gently rest his arm against Peter's bare back. And he continued to firmly pat, not increasing the force or going any faster.

Peter felt James' arm and knew why it wasn't another hand providing comfort and sobbed harder. He'd hurt so many, but James was one of those he'd hurt most. "I'm sorry..." he choked out.

"I know, Peter." James' voice was very gentle as he kept his arm in place as he continued to firmly pat Peter's bare bottom. "I know you're sorry. We'll get past this," he promised.

Peter believed him. He wasn't sure how or why he knew he could, but he did. He slumped over James' leg and just accepted the firm pats, not even squirming, though they were painful. Inside hurt so much more than outside and... The spanking was helping that. Was making it hurt less inside. He didn't stop crying; he might have grown up, but there was still a lot he hadn't learned how to do or handle, and high emotion was one of those things. So, he was still crying hard, but he wasn't moving. He was accepting James' punishment.

"Hurts... Inside..." he finally admitted, with a tiny, broken whisper. What he'd done to James was horrible enough, but he'd done worse that the man didn't know about. He hadn't meant that to happen either, but he was learning that what he meant to happen didn't excuse him from what did happen. It was still his fault. He slumped further, as admitting that to himself caused his spirit to hurt and crumble more.

James stopped the firm pats, and he began to gently rub Peter's bottom, soothing the sore flesh. "I know," he said quietly. "That's the guilt that's hurting you inside. The knowledge that you've been naughty. Spanking you isn't just about me forgiving you, Peter. It's also about helping you to forgive yourself. Helping you to let go of this guilt."

"There's too much wrong. It'll never be right..." Peter's voice was soft, small... hopeless. His crying slowed slightly at the rubbing but didn't stop.

"I know it feels hopeless right now, but you have the chance to grow and learn from this. Not to change your nature, but to become more mindful and responsible for your actions." James continued to gently rub Peter's bottom as he spoke, his arm still resting against the bare skin of Peter's back.

"To think before I do things that... That can hurt people... like I hurt you?" Peter wanted to believe he could do better. He feared failing, but he wanted to be so much better than he had been.

"Exactly," James replied. "I know it wasn't your intention to hurt anyone. I'll help you. Train you. Teach you...." he promised.

"Thank you... I know you could hate me instead of helping me... could leave me alone..."  Peter wrapped his arms around Hook's leg and hugged tight. "Thank you for helping me be good...."

"I don't hate you. And I won't leave you alone," James said. "I care about you." He was continuing the gentle rubbing, no longer spanking in punishment. Peter needed reassurance as much as he deserved and needed to be punished.

Peter slowly calmed as the gentle rubbing did reassure him. His bottom was so very sore, and the rubbing stung slightly, but it helped give Peter a sense of connection and belonging that he needed. He'd felt so adrift and alone and James was helping tether him. "Need you..." he admitted, with a tiny sigh. "...Felt like I was disappearing and now... Now I'm not...."

"Good." James' voice was very gentle and very encouraging, even as he continued to rub Peter's bottom. It was something of a surprise to realize that he needed to provide comfort and affection as much as he needed to punish, but it felt right...not wrong.

Peter sniffled again, hugging even more tightly. "I messed up so bad. Coulda been your friend. 'Stead of what I did. Deserve ta be spanked everyday forever..." he choked out, blinking back tears as a fresh round of guilt assailed him.

"You won't be spanked every day forever." James spoke in a gentle, comforting tone. "After we deal with this naughtiness and can move past it completely, the only times you will be punished is if you're naughty again."

"...The... that's more than fair..." Peter admitted, in a shaky voice. "D... Didn't get spanked as hard and long this time..." he added, in confusion

"You'll be getting more spankings...and I spanked you hard yesterday. I know you're still very sore," James responded. "Some days might be more of a reminder. To keep you focused on what I'm saying to you and teaching you."

"Okay... Are... Are there other ways you will punish me?" Peter asked uncertainly. "Would I have to go to bed without dinner or walk the plank?"

"I won't make you walk the plank. And making you go to bed without dinner would be counterproductive to taking care of you," James answered. "What I will likely do is give you time to reflect...think. Usually that involves you facing the corner until I tell you that you can come out." He was rubbing up and down Peter's back and bottom by this point, giving comfort, affection, and care.

"Standing in the corner? Would I hafta hold still and not look around? I'm not real good at standing still. An I get distracted easy..." Peter said sheepishly.

"I expect you to try," James said. "I won't be upset with you if you struggle, though. As long as you do your best for me."

"I will!" Peter promised fervently. "I'll try so hard to do what you want me to do...."

"I know you will." James carefully moved Peter so that he was on his lap instead of over it, cuddling him tightly.

Peter wrapped his arms tightly around Hook and just snuggled. The fact he was only wearing a shirt made no difference in his behavior. He needed to cuddle.

James cuddled Peter tightly, his hand stroking over the other man's hair and down his back. "I've got you," he whispered. "You aren't alone."

"I'm sorry you didn't get to go home like everyone else..." Peter whispered. "...But I'm happy you're with me."

"If I had gone, you'd be alone. And I won't allow that." James stroked his fingers through Peter's hair. "And when you're ready, I want you to tell me what happened. Why Neverland changed."

At Hook's words, Peter began quietly crying again. He knew he'd need to tell James what happened, but it was daunting. Not only did he not want to think about it... he was pretty sure the older man would be horrified at him and wish he'd left after all.

"You don't have to yet." James brushed a kiss over the top of Peter's head. He didn't even think about it. It just felt right. "But I think it's important you tell me. Because the longer you keep it inside, the more it will hurt you. Better to treat the wound before it gets worse."

Peter nodded wordlessly. He wasn't certain talking would help, but he trusted James to know what was best.

"Did you eat enough?" James asked softly, still stroking Peter's hair. Still cuddling him close and tight.

"Uh huh..." Peter said quietly, all the high emotion having tired him. He was slumped into James, snuggling, and fighting to stay awake.

"Go to sleep," James directed softly, still cuddling and stroking. "I'll still be here."

Peter might have been inclined to argue when he was still kid sized and had the Lost Boys with him. Now? If James was holding him tight, he'd obey. He was tired.

Peter hadn't reacted badly to James brushing a kiss against his head, so James followed his instincts and kissed the top again. His protective feelings had surged full force and his embrace seemed as much to shield Peter as it was to offer comfort and reassurance.

"...That's nice..." Peter whispered, nuzzling against James' chest. He fell asleep.

James held Peter close, only moving so that he could lean back against the wall. He used his hook to draw one of the blankets towards them, carefully draping it around Peter so that the other wouldn't be cold.

***

Peter didn't know how long he slept for. When next he woke, it was dark outside, he was snug in James' arms and a blanket was over both of them. His bottom was tender, but as he was laying on James's chest, still nuzzling, his bottom wasn't touching anything, so didn't bother him.

James had been dozing as well, but fairly lightly, so when he felt Peter wake up, he did as well, gently stroking down the other man's hair and back. "Sleep okay?" he murmured.

Peter swallowed, blinking awake, then gave James a brilliant smile. "You didn't let me go..." he said in wonder. He then nodded slowly, not wanting to move his head off James' chest and not wanting to headbutt the older man either. "I slept real good..." His voice was soft. "Better than ever," he added under his breath. It was obvious he hadn't really meant to say that part out loud.

"Good. I'm glad." James tightened his arms around Peter. "I wouldn't have let you go. It feels good to hold you. To be close to you." He left unsaid that it also felt good to take care of and look after Peter too.

'You... You weren't a pirate before... when you got stranded in Neverland. You were something else and I messed your life up making you be something you weren't..." Peter realized. "You couldn't have been a pirate... you wouldn't want to protect and take care of me if you really were one."

"No," James agreed. "I wasn't a pirate. But I don't remember what I was. Some of the skills I have come from my old life. I always enjoyed being able to fish. Sometimes I remember...." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I don't know what's a memory or real."

"Tell me?" Peter asked hesitantly. "If it is real, maybe you will remember more...." He bit his lip. "I don't remember anything before Neverland...."

"I remember people injured," James said, a bit distantly. "In pain. Crying for help. But I don't remember their faces." He tightened his arms around Peter. "Maybe the memories will come back to you."

"I remember finding this tree. I remember Tink helping me, I was injured, and helping me build the house. Teaching me how to use the magic to protect myself. I don't remember 'The Before'. Maybe it is better not to. I get anxious trying to remember...."

"Maybe it was something bad," James agreed softly. "Something that made it better for you to be here. To come here. It's okay if you don't remember, Peter."

Peter frowned unhappily. "If I can remember, maybe I could remember how to leave... So, I can show you how to get home. I... I know now it was very selfish to make you stay here with me." His voice caught as fresh guilt pricked at him. He'd spent forever ignoring his own selfish, horrible behavior and now, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"You're not making me stay here with you now," James said, stroking Peter's hair. "I'm here, with you, because I choose to be. Because I want to be. I don't think I was bound to anyone before I came here," he added. "You might have taken me from the life I lived before, but I don't believe you took me from another person."

"But you don't remember... I might have. I was a selfish little boy, playing games with people's lives..." Peter let out a sad sigh, nuzzling against James.

"It doesn't feel like I am missing someone. And if I was, I think I would feel that, even if I couldn't remember their name or face." James kissed the top of Peter's head. "I have no true desire to return to whatever my old life was, in any case, even if it were possible...not unless you were with me," he said honestly.

"Cuz you gotta make sure I behave and don't ruin anyone else's life..." Peter nuzzled some more.

"It's not only about that," James replied. "I care about you. I truly care about you. Just because forgiveness might take a while, that doesn't make my feelings any less true."

"Dunno how you kin care 'bout me when I was so horrible to you..." Peter whispered, guilt heavy in his tone. If his bottom wasn't already so sore, he'd put himself over James' lap again.

"Because you need me." James whispered the words into Peter's hair, before kissing it. "And I need you. I thought I was still here because I wanted revenge, but that's not it at all." He gently ran his hand down Peter's back, rubbing the other man's bottom lightly.

Peter whimpered as the sting on his bottom reignited... But didn't pull away. Instead, he hesitantly pushed his bottom out for more rubbing. The gentleness soothed his need to be cared for, while the sting helped his need to feel punished. He nuzzled James' chest again, before placing a hesitant kiss over the older man's heart. It helped hearing that it wasn't a need for revenge keeping the other man stuck. After everything he'd done, Peter was certain there would never be enough revenge taken to free James, if that was the case.

"That feels good," James whispered encouragingly. Responding to Peter's reactions, he continued to gently rub the other man's bottom. "You did the right thing," he murmured. "When you came to the ship and brought me here. You took that step without needing to be taught or told what to do."

"I... I felt drawn to the ship..." Peter said softly, kissing over James's heart again. "I thought I was alone, though... When I saw you with your gun and thought..." His grip on James tightened slightly and he shivered. "I was so scared... I never wanted you to die... Even when I was at my baddest, I never wanted that..." His voice caught.

"I thought I'd reached the edge of what I could endure." James could admit that, looking back at the events of the previous day. "If you hadn't come when you did, I would have taken that step. So, you saved me."

"It was my fault you ever reached that point..." Peter admitted in a tiny voice, very close to crying again. Very close to putting himself back over James's knee and begging to be skinned raw, if it would only get rid of all the wrong he'd done and make him good instead of bad.

James allowed his hand to move up, under Peter's shirt, gently stroking and rubbing against the bare skin of his back. "You were naughty," he said softly. "But you'll be punished for that naughtiness. And you'll be forgiven. And I won't leave you. I will never leave you. Even if it means we stay here, in Neverland. It might be more dangerous, but I don't think it'll be impossible to build a life together."

At that, Peter lost his battle against the tears, a tiny sob escaping. "...Spank me again? Please... Was so horrible bad to you... Can't e... ever make it right..."  Even as he begged for more punishment, his grip had tightened around James and he held on tight, as if afraid the man would disappear.

Gently pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head, James moved his hand back down to Peter's bottom. He didn't move the other man back over his lap, wanting to provide comfort and affection. And once more, he began to firmly pat Peter's bottom, again knowing it would take very little to reignite the sting.

Peter continued to sob quietly as the firm pats reignited the sting, shortly causing his bottom to ache. There was a hint of relief in the sobs, though. James listening to Peter's plea had reassured the younger man that James meant what he said. If he didn't care about Peter or plan to stay, he would have left Peter to flounder in his guilt, mired down and unable to move forward. "...Thank you..." he managed to voice, in a high pitched, tear laden voice.

More than anything, James wished he had two hands, so that he could offer the needed comfort along with the needed punishment. He did the best he could, though. Where he couldn't use another hand, he wrapped his arm tighter around Peter. And he pressed his bare arm against the bare skin of Peter's back. And he pressed gentle, affectionate kisses to the top and side of Peter's head.

Peter could feel James's arm on his bare back... Feel the kisses... Even as the older man continued the firm patting. At first, he felt worse; it was his fault James was missing his hand. But then... calm settled over him. James wanted to touch him. Wanted to comfort him. After everything he'd done. While Peter didn't think he'd ever deserve it, knowing that James was worried about him eased some of the guilt; at least enough he could accept the comfort. Impulsively, he shifted enough to remove his shirt, the only article of clothing he still wore, and then pressed close and tight again, nuzzling, and kissing James's chest as the crying eased.

He kept his bottom pushed out for the firm pats, but now he was more focused on giving James what he needed. He didn't know if the other man needed to make his bottom hurt, but if he didn't, Peter wouldn't ask for more, no matter how guilty he felt. It needed to be James' needs that were met. Peter's body became more pliable and submissive, as he tried to convey without words that James controlled. It was James's decision.

James let his breath out slowly as Peter removed his shirt, the last bit of clothing he wore. He let his lips trail down in a row of kisses, along Peter's head and down his shoulder. He stopped patting Peter's bottom and instead let his hand stroke up and down Peter's bare back, touching the skin...exploring...gently squeezing and rubbing, even as he continued to press kisses along Peter's neck and shoulder.

Peter shivered at the touches. It was comforting and... more. It was a new sensation, unfamiliar in its familiarity. Peter wasn't ignorant. He'd seen Neverland's animals (and sometimes magical creatures) mate before. But he'd never experienced it. He wasn't certain he was experiencing it now, to be honest. Just because the affection was more personal than he'd ever experienced before in his life didn't necessarily mean anything. Except... James had indicated he'd never leave Peter alone, no matter where they ended up, and implied they'd be partners. Uncertainly, Peter nuzzled against where James' shirt tied, nudging the material aside so he could kiss the bare skin of the older man's chest, holding his breath to see if it was allowed or if it would upset James.

James gave a tiny groan, an expel of air, that clearly had an encouraging note to it. Kissing Peter's shoulder, he whispered, "We belong to each other now. You are free to touch and explore. You are not being punished right now." Even the one kiss to the bare skin of his chest had caused his own member to stir, taking an interest, as the warmth of being with someone he cared about filled him.

Slowly exhaling the breath he'd been holding, Peter kissed the same spot, then gave it a tiny lick, tasting the one who'd just claimed him. His arms loosened their grip just enough that he could run his hands over James' back and shoulders. All tears had stopped by this point, Peter's attention fully on James. He could feel the bulge held back by the older man's breeches against his leg and glanced down curiously. Impulsively, he let his hand rub over the bulge; gentle, but firm enough to feel it.

James' breathing hitched as Peter rubbed over his erection, his fingers flexing gently on Peter's skin. He kissed Peter's neck, allowing his tongue to gently flick over the pulse point there. His own hand was still stroking and gently squeezing along Peter's spine, still exploring the other man's body.

Peter let out a tiny whine at James licking, blinking as his own member jumped to attention. He let out a surprised sound. He'd only been in an adult body for a few days before finding James. This was the first time he'd experienced arousal.

James pulled back slightly when he heard the sound, eyes searching Peter's face. "Did I hurt you?" His voice was one of worried concern. He was scared he'd allowed his own needs and wants to overpower what Peter needed and wanted.

Peter looked back at James, his eyes wide and face flushed, showing obvious signs of arousal. "No... You didn't hurt me..." he whispered, in a high, shaky voice, shifting because the arousal was uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure how to make it go away. He knew how animals made them go away, but....

James moved his hand round to gently cup Peter's face in his hand, thumb stroking over the other man's lips. "Do you want me to touch you?" he asked softly, indicating Peter's arousal.

Peter licked his lips. "Will that make it feel better?" he asked, in a shaky, uncertain voice.

"What you're feeling right now is arousal," James explained softly. "If you ignore it, it will go down eventually, though it will be uncomfortable for a while. If I touch you, it will bring you to eventual release. For most people, that feels good."

"Would you like it? Touching me?" Peter asked innocently. If it would feel good and make the uncomfortable feeling go away quickly, he saw no reason not to be touched. But the way James was so careful to ask him, he worried that maybe it wouldn't feel good, or might even hurt the man he was coming to love.

"I would like to touch you," James said honestly. "But I don't want to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable or distressed."

Peter smiled brightly at that. It was evidence that James cared about him and didn't want to hurt him. "Please touch me? I wanna know what it feels like..." he said softly, trying to sound brave so James wouldn't worry. It sounded more innocently naive than brave.

James searched Peter's face for a few moments before saying, quietly, "If it hurts, or feels uncomfortable, or you need it to stop for any reason, you need to let me know. It shouldn't hurt, it should feel good, but sometimes feeling uncomfortable makes you feel like it hurts."

Peter listened carefully, then nodded. "Okay... I'll let you know..." he promised. He knew it wouldn't be a hard promise to keep. For as often as he liked to pretend some hurts didn't bother him and appear brave, he was just as likely to react and make it known something hurt. And it seemed important to James that he not hide it if it hurt. It was important to Peter to make James happy.

"Good." James stroked Peter's cheek for a few more moments and then moved his hand down towards Peter's member. He stroked it gently, watching Peter to make sure the other man wasn't worried or frightened.

Peter's eyes widened and he shivered, moaning softly. It was obvious that it didn't hurt, though. It felt really good. "Does it always feel this good?" he breathed out, unable to keep from thrusting up into James's hand.

"It often feels good," James replied. "Sometimes it might feel good with only one person." He continued to stroke, a little more firmly now.

Peter whined softly as his member became harder and more aroused, precum pooling at the tip. "You mean I could do this to myself?" he asked, not really asking if he was capable; he wasn't stupid, he'd figured it out fairly quick. He was more asking if James would allow him to. For some reason, it was very important that James approve before he did anything like this.

James paused briefly at the question. He knew what Peter was asking, though wasn't sure exactly what answer the other man was looking for. Finally, he said, "Not without my permission." And hoped he was saying the right thing.

Peter made a happy little chirping noise at the answer, smiling brightly before hiding his face against James' chest, nuzzling and kissing the area not covered by James' shirt. He continued to lightly thrust into his mate's (he had no doubt that's what they were) hand, unable to hold still when it felt so good, but not wanting to accidentally pull free of James's grip. "I hafta get your permission for mate stuff..." he agreed softly, not sounding upset in the least that he was being restricted or being expected to obey.

"Exactly right," James agreed, kissing Peter's head before murmuring, "And you are free to touch and explore my own body in whatever way you wish." He was still firmly stroking the other man's member.

That permission caused Peter's member to twitch and swell further. Within seconds of being told he could do so, he was tugging James's shirt up and out of the way so he could explore naked skin, running his hands gently over the exposed flesh. He gently scraped a nail over one of James's nipples, watching closely to see if it got a reaction.

James' groan was long and drawn out and his fingers flexed lightly on Peter's member before he calmed a fraction. "That feels good," he whispered, his own member swelling where it was hidden by his pants.

Peter grinned at hearing the groan, flicking his finger over the nipple again before leaning down and licking it. He was gripping onto James tightly as his hips continued gently thrusting into his mate's hand.

Once more, James' fingers flexed on Peter's member, even as he continued to firmly stroke it. The groan was louder when Peter licked his nipple, his body arching just a little as pleasure sparked through him.

Shivering in excitement at hearing his mate, Peter licked again before latching onto the nipple and sucking. His own fingers flexed where he held onto the older man and he wiggled slightly so his bottom rubbed over the bulge in James's pants.

James' moan was longer and more drawn out than the previous ones, his head falling back as he gasped quietly. His fingers gently gripped Peter's member; not tight enough to hurt, but enough to be felt. And his own member was straining against his pants.

Peter whimpered as James's grip tightened. "W... What should I do?" he finally breathed out. He was as aroused as it was possible to be. He ached. The firmer James's grip became, the better it felt, but he needed more. He just didn't know what he needed.

James angled his head so that he could press a kiss against Peter's neck, whispering, "I can bring you to release, which will feel really good...but it'll mean stroking you harder and faster." He gently gripped Peter's member.

Peter wriggled so his bottom rubbed James' erection through the pants. He began to pant slightly. "I... Yes please... But... What about you?" He wasn't ignorant. He knew James was aroused and he wasn't helping the older man like James was helping him.

James smiled at the words and pressed another kiss to Peter's neck. "You could do the same to me that I am doing to you," he suggested...not pushing Peter into anything, but wanting to give the other man the option in case he wanted to.

"Y... You'll tell me how to do it right? So, you like it?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Of course," James murmured. "You don't have to worry." Giving in to instinct, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed Peter's lips.

Peter's quick inhalation of breath, then tiny whimper of need, was followed by him returning the kiss with abandon, surrendering to James completely.

James deepened the kiss, tasting Peter's lips, continuing to gently pump Peter's member. He let his tongue touch the other man's lips, silently asking for permission to enter.

Peter sighed softly, opening his mouth for James. He was flushed and breathing raggedly. His member ached so bad, but it felt so good. He didn't know how it could feel any better.

Gently pushing his tongue into Peter's mouth, James could also feel precum beginning to pool at the tip of the other man's member. He began to rub his thumb over the tip, smearing the precum around.

Peter let out tiny sobs as his member became even more sensitive. He was completely at James' mercy and under his control. It felt right and good and the fluid began to flow a little more rapidly, providing a natural lubricant.

James kissed Peter more deeply, claiming his mouth along with his member. He gently nipped at Peter's lips and lightly squeezed his member. He still retained enough control over himself to make sure he could feel and see if Peter became worried or anxious, but otherwise, he gave himself completely to bringing Peter pleasure.

Peter was caught completely by surprise when his orgasm hit, his body beginning to quake out of his control as he emptied for James. When it was over, he lay limp in James' arms, a shocked, if blissed out, look on his face. He trembled slightly, giving James a hesitant kiss. "Was I supposed to do that?" he whispered.

"You were." James murmured the words against Peter's lips. "That's what it means to have an orgasm. It was the point I wanted you to reach." He gently kissed along Peter's jawline.

Peter relaxed as he realized he'd done what James wanted. "Now I help you?" He smiled sweetly.

"As long as it's what you want to do," James said honestly. "I would be happy just to bring you pleasure."

"I wanna help you feel good too..." Peter asserted. "...If you don't mind...." Maybe James didn't want to lose control in that way.

"I don't mind." James kissed him tenderly. "I would like to feel you touch me." His voice was sincere.

Peter smiled at that, returning the kiss before hesitantly reaching down and rubbing James through his pants.

"That feels good," James said encouragingly, his member hardening even more at Peter's touch.

Peter smiled at that, his touch and grip becoming surer. "Your pants are in the way..." he said hesitantly.

"Why don't you help me remove them?" James suggested softly.

Peter looked up at that, but then got a laser focused look in his eyes as he looked at the pants and determined the best way to remove them. Getting off of James's lap, he began his quest, and it didn't take long (with James' help) that the ex-pirate was just as naked as Peter. When Peter saw the hardened length of his mate no longer confined by the breeches, his eyes grew wide and he knelt between James's knees so he could watch as he began to firmly but gently, slowly, stroke the swollen appendage. It was obvious he was enamored in a good way.

James groaned softly as Peter began to stroke his swollen member. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him in this way if anyone had touched him like this before. It didn't take long before his member swelled to full hardness, precum beginning to pool at its tip.

Peter licked his lower lip as he continued to squeeze and stroke his mate, eyes watching as the tip began to glisten. He rubbed his thumb over the tip, smearing the precum around.

This time, James moaned...and the sound was longer and more drawn out. "Feels so good." His voice was rough with arousal and need.

"I want to help you feel good," Peter said, looking up earnestly. He didn't say that he'd hurt James so much, he needed to help him feel better, but he felt it.

"You're doing that really well." Reaching down, James gently caressed Peter's face, thumb stroking over his newly discovered mate's lips. "You're making me feel really good," he whispered encouragingly.

Peter smiled at that, kissing James's fingers as he continued to stroke him.

"I love you." The words slipped out without conscious thought...without any decision to say them. But they were still true. For so long, James had felt like a prisoner here, forced to act in a way that wasn't anything like his true nature. Not anymore, though.

Peter's eyes brightened at that. "I love you too!" he whispered. And he knew it was true. He'd treated Hook so bad, but it was never because he'd hated him. He'd been selfish and willful and ignorant about how his actions were causing pain, but deep down, he'd just been a scared child who didn't want to be left behind... Alone. Which was what had happened, except for James. James had stayed and was teaching him and helping him and trusting him; it was impossible not to love him. James was everything Peter thought he we could want to be.

James smiled at the response and leaned forward, kissing Peter more gently and more tenderly than he had previously. His hand was still on Peter's face, and he was gently stroking the other man's cheek. Peter's hand was still on him, still stroking, and it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge...but it wasn't just the physical that was pushing him there, it was the emotional aspect more than that.

Peter's grip tightened slightly at the kiss, but it was still gentle. He continued to stroke, but he stayed on his knees between James's thighs. He wanted to watch everything as his mate got the same pleasure he'd given Peter.

For a few moments, James hovered on the edge, allowing himself to draw things out for as long as possible. But he couldn't hold himself back for long. When his release hit him, it was long and hard and he groaned softly against Peter's mouth, fingers flexing slightly on the other man's cheek.

Peter couldn’t watch like he'd hoped, being kissed as he was, and promised himself to do this again later, so he could watch. Instead, he continued to gently squeeze, not sure if he should continue stroking or not. His mate wasn't hard any longer. Smiling crookedly, he whispered hopefully, "You feel good?"

"Very good." James whispered the words against Peter's lips. "You make me feel really good, Peter." He moved his hand to the back of Peter's head, cupping it gently.

"I'm glad... You should feel good..." Peter said earnestly, leaning into the touch.

"I do. Thanks to you," James murmured, pulling Peter in closer and tighter.

"We're sticky..." Peter giggled, while snuggling close.

James smiled at that. "We can go back to the stream to get cleaned up," he suggested, stroking his hand down Peter's back.

"Okay..." Peter agreed. Now that he was grown, baths didn't bother him so much. And he hated being dirty.

"We could do that now, if you wanted," James commented. "We probably need to wash our clothes too."

"That sounds good..." Peter agreed. "Tomorrow, when it isn't so close to nighttime, I can show you the hot springs...."

"I would like that," James agreed. He held Peter close and tight for a few more moments before helping the other man to stand.

Peter stood up and moved closer to Hook. He grabbed his clothing on the way out, since they planned to wash it. He figured he'd hang it up near the fire to dry and snuggle close to James for warmth when they went to bed.

James saw no need to dress himself. After all, he had his pistol to hand. Wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders, he guided the other man towards the makeshift lift, so they could get to the ground and head to the stream.

It took little time at all to get to the stream and clean up, washing their clothes and returning to the tree house. With their clothes hanging by the fire to dry, Peter pressed close to James in the bed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

***

James woke up fairly early, once again dreaming of what he believed was his past. He was starting to remember more of the man he'd once been...and while Peter had been the reason he'd forgotten in the first place, it seemed that the other man was now the reason why James was remembering more.

Not trying to wake Peter up, James gently stroked the younger man's hair. Peter was a warm, comforting weight in his arms. It felt good to hold onto him.

Peter had dreamed as well, though the dreams did nothing to help him remember who he had been before. What he remembered was expectation and excitement, followed by cold, darkness and fear. Only James' strong hold and the gentle stroking of his hair kept him from waking in a cold sweat. He whimpered softly and shivered, burrowing against his mate as the 'recollection' left him; still no closer to remembering his past, but feeling unsettled.

Feeling the shiver and hearing the whimper, concern sparked in James, and he automatically tightened his arms around Peter, pressing a kiss to the other man's head.

Feeling the strength in James' arms around him, and the affection, eased what little fear remained from the dream and Peter snuggled close. "... Morning..." he finally whispered, in a sleepy, just woke, voice.

"Morning," James responded, kissing his head again. "You didn't sleep well?" He'd picked up on Peter's reactions, after all.

"I... I think I slept good. Until my dream. But I can't remember what the dream was about... Only that it was scary..." Peter admitted, with a sigh. "Scary and cold," he added, as an afterthought, snuggling closer yet, as if trying to get warm.

James reached out and picked up one of the blankets, wrapping it around Peter while pulling his mate in closer and tighter. "Do you think it might have been about your past, before you came here to Neverland?" he asked softly.

"Maybe..." Peter said hesitantly. "I can't think of anywhere in Neverland that was that dark and cold," he admitted.

"I dreamed about my past," James said quietly. "It's possible we're both remembering bits and pieces."

Peter snuggled. "Was your memory good?" he asked hopefully.

"I remembered what I used to be, before I came here," James replied. "You were right. I was never a pirate. I was a doctor...an army surgeon."

"You helped people... Not hurt them..." Peter said softly. He snuggled close, swallowing down another stab of guilt. Because of him, James had been forced to go against his nature.

"It's a good thing I wasn't a pirate in my previous life," James said quietly. "You don't need a pirate bent on vengeance. You need help."

"I don't need a pirate wanting vengeance, but I'd deserve it..." Peter sighed softly, pulling back so he could look James in the eye. "What I did to you... I can never make it right. I'm sorry." Swallowing hard, he made a quick decision, moving into position so his bottom was an easy target. "I can't make it right... Can only ask you to punish me until I'll never be so bad again..." he whispered.

James gently ran his hand over Peter's back, taking note of the color and heat in the other man's bottom. "I'm not going to spank you today. I can see you're already sore. Today, I think we'll be sticking with corner time...time to reflect on the choices you made and how you can make better ones in the future."

Peter looked over his shoulder at James, blinking, slightly confused. "Thinking about what I should have done instead of keeping you in Neverland and making you be a pirate?" he asked uncertainly.

"Thinking about the power you have and how to use it responsibly. Thinking about how to handle it if you don't want to be alone, instead of forcing someone to stay with you and giving them no choice in it." James stroked Peter's back for a few more moments and then helped him to stand, guiding him towards one of the corners.

Peter went where James led without argument, facing the corner quietly, and did as directed. When he'd kept the Lost Boys and the 'Pirates' in Neverland, he hadn't considered that they might have families who would miss them. He had only thought of his own need not to be alone. Now... Now he thought of what he'd done and considered what he could have done (should have done) instead. With the power he'd had at his fingertips, there was so much he could have done differently that didn't turn other people into powerless toys, slaves to his whims.

It wasn't a good feeling, realizing what he'd done and how unnecessary it had been. His shoulders dropped and he began to hunch in on himself the more he thought about his actions and the more alternatives he thought of that wouldn't have hurt others. Wouldn't have hurt James. Wouldn't have hurt Michael and Wendy.... A tiny sob escaped and soon, he was crying hard, unable to help himself. "...My fault..." he choked out. "... Died... My fault...."

James noticed the way Peter was hunched in on himself and he heard the tears, along with the words. He hadn't planned to leave the other man in the corner for very long anyway, but he couldn't ignore Peter's obvious distress. Standing, he quickly walked over and wrapped his arms tightly around Peter, pressing a kiss against his neck and whispering, "Who died?"

"... Michael..." Peter whispered, in a shaky voice. "... Wendy...."

"What happened?" James' voice was very gentle, as he stroked Peter's hair.

Swallowing hard and sniffling, Peter began to tell the whole sad tale. When he explained how Michael had died, his voice caught. When he told of Wendy blaming him and attacking, and of his accidental killing of her in self-defense, he choked and began to sob.

James wrapped his arms more tightly around Peter as the other man explained. He didn't let go and he didn't so much as loosen his hold. "That wasn't your fault," he said softly. "You didn't deliberately set out to get either of them hurt...either of them killed."

"If I'd never brought them to Neverland, neither of them would have died..." Peter said, in a hoarse, forlorn voice.

"Maybe," James said. "Or maybe they were fated to die anyway, and it wouldn't have made a difference where they were. You didn't harm either of them deliberately, Peter. But that's why it's so important for you to think about the actions you take next time. So that it's less likely people will get hurt."

Peter slumped. "Yessir..." he said, in a broken voice. He knew James was right. He felt so horribly guilty, he didn't think he'd ever feel better.

James brushed a kiss against Peter's head and murmured, "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but the pain will eventually fade. You won't forget them entirely, but eventually, it won't hurt as much. I don't want you broken up and hurting from guilt, Peter. I want to help you to forgive yourself."

"I messed up so many lives..." Peter whispered. "You're right. I should have thought... Not misused the power I had. I was a selfish little boy and I... I can't undo any of it.... I'm so sorry, though."

"You've realized where you were wrong. Where you went wrong," James said gently. "And I believe you'll do better. That you can be better."

"I don't have the power I did. Not anymore. But I 'm afraid I can still hurt you. Please help me be good.... Please," Peter begged.

"I will always help you," James promised, kissing Peter's head. "I love you. And I won't ever leave you."

Peter shivered at the kiss and the promise. "Thank you," he said weakly.

"And I know you can do better. I believe you can do better," James said seriously.

"With you beside me to help me make the right choices, I can..." Peter said, with a little more confidence, then sniffled.

Retrieving a small piece of cloth, James carefully wiped the tears from Peter's face. "I won't leave you," he reiterated.

Peter gave James a sad smile. "You were never a pirate. You're my guardian angel..." he whispered.

James kissed him tenderly. "You won't ever be alone again."

Peter returned the kiss. "I love you... Anything in my power to do to make you happy... I want to do..." he declared.

"You're already doing that," James said softly, caressing the side of his face. "You've given me someone to take care of."

Peter pressed his face into James's hand. "I wish... Wish I would have thought... Not made you my enemy before. Let you take care of me instead. Wouldn't have had everything go so wrong if I'd let you in charge..." he said softly.

James' smile was a bit sad as he said, quietly, "You're letting me do that now. You're thinking now." Despite the sadness, his voice was also very encouraging.

Peter blinked back tears as he thought of everything that had gone wrong because he had done wrong. He turned his face just enough to kiss James' hand. "I love you... I can't ever make up for what I did and I'm sorry, but I love you..." he whispered, starting to cry again.

James sat down and gently pulled Peter into his lap, cuddling the other man close. "We'll get past this," he promised. "I love you and we'll deal with everything that happened. And I believe you'll do better, that you can be better."

"And if I mess up? I... I think I must be really old, but I... I never learned how to be responsible..." Peter flushed in shame. "I didn't think I had to... Not when I could just wish things the way I thought they should be."

"If you mess up, we'll deal with it," James replied. "And if necessary, I'll punish you. But I'll also teach you. Train you."

Peter sniffled, forcing himself to look into the corner again. even though his impulse was to turn completely around and throw his arms around James in a tight hug. "Thank you..." he said quietly. "I can be good if you help me...."

"I know you can be," James said quietly. "I believe in you." He kissed Peter's shoulder. "I don't think you need to reflect anymore today. We may repeat this tomorrow."

"Can I turn around?" Peter asked softly, needing to continue to obey James.

"You can," James replied, letting his fingers stroke tenderly through Peter's hair.

Peter immediately turned, wrapping his arms around James, and holding tight. His state of undress didn't bother him in the least; he'd go completely naked and not care, as long as he could stay in James's arms.

James held Peter tightly, stroking his hair and down over his back. "I won't leave you," he reiterated. "And I won't let you deal with this pain alone. I love you."

"I love you.... Don't deserve to you... So grateful you want me..." Peter nuzzled James's shoulder.

"I need you," James said quietly. "You've given me a reason to carry on living."

"I need you too... Want to be with you forever..." Peter admitted.

James smiled gently at that response. "That's the idea," he said quietly.

Peter smiled back, a little of the light re-entering his eyes. "I'll obey you forever, too... so I can be good..." he promised.

"Thank you." James hugged him a bit tighter. "If we can, I do think we should try and leave Neverland. We can make a life together outside this place, where there'll be less danger from things like sirens."

Peter nodded. "I don't know if the wish magic will work for us... But I think maybe I didn't fly here originally, so maybe I can remember a way out...."

"If a way out comes to you, we'll try it," James said. "But don't force it. I think we're safe enough in this place. 

"For now..." Peter shivered, snuggling closer. "Every day, the Fae get meaner and cruel...."

"Even Tink?" James asked carefully. "It sounds as if she helped you when you first came here to Neverland...perhaps even before everything was changed." He didn't say 'changed by you.' While it was probable Peter had been the one responsible for changing the creatures and monsters, it was just as possible Peter hadn't really realized he was doing so. Especially as he didn't seem to remember it.

"I... I haven't seen Tink since I grew up. She never trusted grown-ups...." Peter was sad.

"Have you tried talking to her?" James asked carefully.

Peter paused. "Not really... She never trusted big people and I am big now, so... You think she'd talk to me?" He couldn't help sounding hopeful.

"She did know you when you were a child," James said. "It might be different when it comes to you."

"Do you think so? I haven't seen her around the treehouse, but... I could go search for her in some of her favorite spots..." Peter said, half-hopefully, half-nervously.

"I think it's worth trying," James replied honestly. "She might not come out if I'm with you, but I can be close by in any case. If you need me."

"I'll do that, then. When should I look for her?" Peter asked his mate, trusting James to make the best decisions.

"Not at night," James said. "Ideally, during the day...when there's less danger around, even if it's not entirely safe. And if there are different places she might be, we should make a list of where to look in order...so we're not caught out after dark."

Peter nodded, snuggling close. "I can make a list for you now... so you can decide where we should look first..." he said quietly. It felt natural to defer to James's decision in this, as James currently had more confidence.

James nodded. "That would be a good idea," he agreed. His arms were still wrapped tightly around Peter, holding the other man close and tight. "It feels good to hold you like this," he said softly.

Peter smiled up at James, pressing closer still. "I like it..." he admitted. "Being held so tight I can't move unless you let me. It feels safe...."

Responding to those words, James pulled Peter into his lap, wrapping his arms around his mate, effectively 'trapping' Peter.

Peter burrowed close, his head under James's chin. "Like being held tight with nothing on to block you from touching me..." he whispered. "...Helps me feel like I belong to you. Wanna belong to you...." Peter might be inexperienced and not have a full idea of how things would work between him and James (he wasn't certain how they could properly mate, since neither one of them could have offspring), but he'd heard the Fae talking about belonging to each other and the idea intrigued him. He thought he'd like that.

"Do you want us to mate?" James asked softly. He figured Peter had probably seen animals and maybe even the fairies mating in the past...although two men were likely something the younger man wasn't familiar with. Still. If it was something Peter wanted, James would teach him. He pressed a kiss to Peter's head.

"Can we?" Peter looked up, uncertainly but hopefully. "I want to belong to you...."

James nodded. "We'd have to use something as lubricant. Like oil or similar. Two men mating isn't the same as a man and a woman and I want to make sure there's as little discomfort for you as possible."

Peter wrinkled his nosed thoughtfully. "I found some stuff on your ship... I kinda took it..." Peter said, in a mixture of sheepish guilt. "I think one of them was some type of oil..." He bit his lip and hesitantly pointed toward where a big chest was gathering dust. Once Peter had taken the chest, he'd lost interest in it. He couldn't even remember what was in it, beyond the possibility of one of the bottles having oil in it.

James glanced towards the chest. "It probably has a lot of whiskey and brandy in it too." Keeping an arm wrapped around Peter, he led the other man towards the chest and carefully opened it.

James wasn't wrong. It had a lot of whiskey and brandy in it. It also had several bottles of oil, dried grains and dried fruits; Peter had stolen from the ship’s larder.  "I tried a sip out of that bottle when I first brought it back and it stung my tongue. I didn't like it much..." Peter admitted, pointing at one of the stronger alcohols.

"I'm not surprised. This is less for drinking and more for treating wounds," James said. It had at least been useful when he'd had his hand bitten off. "There are more food options here too. Not much, but we could add them to cooked fish for a bit more goodness." He reached to take one of the bottles of oil.

"I stole your medicine from you?" Peter asked sadly, feeling a little more guilt at how he'd treated James and the other 'pirates'.

James shook his head. "It wasn't medicine. It was for cleaning wounds. Stopping the risk of infection...." His voice trailed off. "I must have retained some memories of before, even then." He wasn't blind to how Peter was feeling, and he placed the bottle on the ground, gently turning the younger man to face him. "I'm certain you wouldn't steal from me again, but if something like that did happen and there wasn't a good reason for it, it will end up with you taking a trip over my knee." His voice was mild, gentle even, despite the light scolding.

Peter bit his lip and nodded vigorously. "Yessir. Won't ever steal from you again. If I want something, I'll ask fer it..." he promised fervently.

"Good," James praised softly. He moved his hand down a bit further, gently rubbing Peter's bottom, before he picked up the bottle of oil once more.

Peter shivered as his tender bottom was rubbed, pressing closer to his mate. The gentleness was soothing.

James still had one arm wrapped around Peter's shoulders and he guided the younger man towards the bed, helping Peter to lay down face up on it, arms and legs splayed so that James could see every bit of him.

Peter flushed as his mate looked at him but didn't try to hide. He stayed exactly as James placed him, so that the older man could look as much as he wanted.

"So lovely," James murmured, looking leisurely over Peter's body...taking his time...before he leaned forward to kiss the other man tenderly.

Peter blushed more darkly at the compliment, returning the kiss just as tenderly, letting James take control over whatever happened. It was obvious, in more than one way, he liked what was happening.

Gently pulling back from the kiss, James began to kiss down Peter's jaw and over his throat. At the same time, he moved his hand towards the other man's member, fingers gently gliding over it.

Peter quivered, moaning softly at the gentle touch. "S'good..." he whispered.

"It feels good to touch you," James murmured. "It feels good to have you submitting to me." He whispered the words against Peter's skin, gently grazing it with his teeth. He stroked Peter's member for a few moments and then carefully opened the bottle of oil.

"Fought you for too long... need to submit... give in to you..." Peter admitted, his breath catching.

"You're doing that now," James whispered encouragingly. "You're being so good for me now." He coated his finger in the oil and then gently pressed it against Peter's entrance. He continued to kiss and gently nip along Peter's neck and down his shoulders.

Peter's eyes widened and he couldn't help but still at feeling where James's finger was. Then he realized how two males could mate. "...You're going to fill me up there?" he asked nervously, even as he shifted his legs so that he was more exposed to James.

"It's the only way for two males to mate with each other...at least fully." James pulled back enough to look into Peter's eyes. "But we don't have to do it. We don't have to go any further than we have already. I would be just as happy with that," he murmured.

"I want to belong to you..." Peter said, in a soft voice. "...I trust you."

"You can still belong to me without taking that step." James' eyes searched Peter's face, looking for any hesitation...any uncertainty. If it seemed like Peter didn't really want this, James would put a stop to it.

Peter kept his eyes on James, trying to convey that he wanted it, even if he was slightly scared about it.

"I want you to tell me. If it gets too much, or becomes uncomfortable or scares you," James said seriously. "I love you. I'd never force you into anything."

"I know you wouldn't... but if I get scared, I don't want to stop... I just... might need a little help..." Peter said somberly, leaning up and kissing James.

"I'll help you. No matter what," James promised. "I just want to make sure you know that you can say no or stop if you need to."

"I know..." Peter's smile was bright and full of trust. "...But I won't want to. I need to belong to you."

"As long as you're sure," James murmured. He tenderly kissed Peter's lips and then gently pressed his finger against his mate's entrance once more, slowly pushing it inside.

Peter's breath caught and then he was releasing it in a slow, low, whimpering moan. He drew his knees up closer to his shoulders, to make it easier for James to get to him. It felt better than he'd expected, James' finger being inside him, gently stretching him. He couldn't help but clench tightly around the digit and squirm slightly. He'd thought it would feel uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Not yet anyway.

"Good," James murmured. "You're so good for me." He slowly moved his finger in circles inside of Peter, taking his time. He wasn't in any rush and wanted to make sure he made this feel as good as possible for his mate.

Peter slowly relaxed, his entrance becoming less tight and more open the longer James rubbed inside. His whimpering moans became louder and longer, and his member began to fill and harden.

James coated a second finger in the oil. Then, slowly, and gently, he pushed that finger inside Peter as well, moving both in slow circles inside the other man.

Peter made a sound that was equal parts nervous and excited, whimpering faintly as he stretched further for his mate. Two fingers inside was slightly uncomfortable, but it was still pleasant. He kept his eyes on James the entire time, enabling the older man to see every emotion as he experienced it... The nervous anticipation, the uncertain discomfort that had him clenching and holding still, then the moment when he realized it didn't hurt and still felt good. His smile grew and brightened, and he relaxed again, enabling James to move and explore inside of him. He didn't understand it, but having James do this made him feel smaller... More helpless... More dependent on his mate, and his emotions dropped slightly. James could see that as well.

James was watching Peter's face carefully, making sure he'd be able to see if the other man became distressed or hurt...even if Peter didn't realize enough to tell him. He could see that Peter dropped and he leaned in to brush a tender kiss against his mate's lips. "I love you," he whispered, his voice sincere and warmed through with that love.

"Love you too... Forever and ever..." Peter promised innocently, with a childlike enthusiasm. "Feels really good..." he murmured.

"I'm glad," James whispered. "I want to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good."

"I want you to feel good too..." Peter said quietly, his gaze intent on James. And then he moaned loudly as James rubbed over a very sensitive spot inside him and he couldn't help but squirm on his mate's fingers.

James smiled, both at the words and the response he got. "Making you feel good makes me feel good." He kissed Peter again, pushing towards that spot to make his mate feel really good.

As James began a relentless rubbing against the very sensitive area, Peter lost what little control he'd had. He began to squirm helplessly; babbling, moaning, whimpering and sometimes expelling air in tiny little sobbing huffs filled with need. He couldn't have been coherent if he tried.

James' own member was very quickly growing swollen and hard, filling in response to Peter's reactions. He finally pulled his fingers free and coated his own member in the oil. Gently grasping Peter's hips, he pushed slowly inside his mate.

Peter let out another tiny sob, squirming as he felt James pushing in, stretching him further than he'd ever been stretched before. He wrapped his legs tightly around his mate's waist, as if to hold him inside or pull him deeper. He needed what James was doing so bad... And couldn't articulate... Could only squirm helplessly under the older man, begging with his eyes and the way he clenched tightly around James's shaft.

James groaned as he pushed into Peter's tight warmth. He pulled out enough to let him thrust in again...not hard or at full force, though still going deep. Despite his own arousal, he was still being careful of Peter; still taking care of his lover.

Peter groaned; feeling his mate buried deep inside felt so wonderful. He found himself tilting his head back, exposing his neck to James... An act of submission and compete trust.

James kissed Peter's neck, nuzzling against the skin there, as he continued to thrust...still holding back so that he was gentle, even as he sought out that one spot inside his mate to bring Peter to release.

Peter had thought having James rubbing that spot inside him with his fingers felt good. It was nothing compared to having James's hard shaft rubbing over it repeatedly. The stimulation combined with the pressure of being stuffed full was almost more than he could take. "Please..." he finally sobbed out, whimpering with need. His own member was swollen and angry. He needed release, but something held him back. He needed James's permission.

James began to thrust harder and faster, pressing a kiss to Peter's neck before beginning to suck on the skin, leaving a mark behind. "Let go," he growled, instinct driving him to give the order.

Peter wailed as he came immediately on James's command. He fell apart under and around James, unable to control himself or his reactions as the spasms tore through him, eventually leaving him boneless- limp- under his mate. He gave James a sex drugged smile when he realized his mate, his master, was still buried deep in him, pounding, filling him up. He carefully shifted just enough that James could go deeper and harder, taking his own pleasure. Peter felt like he'd never stop feeling good from the pleasure he'd just been given.

It took only a few moments longer for James' own release to come over him and his body tensed, shuddering, as his orgasm tore into him. He rode out the waves for long, intense moments before he collapsed on top of Peter, kissing the other man's neck.

Peter groaned happily, feeling James's weight on him. "That was wonderful..." he breathed out softly.

James smiled and gently caressed the side of Peter's face. "It was," he agreed. "You're not in any pain or discomfort?"

Peter paused and focused on where his mate had spent the last many minutes. "No, sir... Feels a little sensitive, but doesn't hurt. Can we do it again?" he asked hopefully.

"We can," James replied. "Though doing it too many times in too short a time can cause discomfort and some pain. So, we want to make sure we don't do it too much."

Peter thought about it, then nodded. "Like eating too much candy at once, instead of eating it slowly, can end up not feeling so good...."

"Exactly." James smiled at Peter and leaned in to tenderly kiss him.

Peter returned the kiss with a tiny little sigh. "I love you..." he said happily.

"I love you. So very much so." James gently stroked the side of his face. "I think we should have something to eat. After that, we can talk about the different places where you might be able to find Tink."

Peter nodded, pressing his face into James's hand. "Okay. I'm very hungry," he admitted, with a grin.

"You need to replenish your energy. We both do." James stroked his thumb against Peter's lips and then carefully withdrew from his mate. He used some cloth and a bit of water from his waterskin to clean them both up. Then, he moved over to the chest and retrieved some of the items from it, so that he could prepare a meal along with the berries and fish they'd gathered after the previous day.

Once cleaned, Peter got up and trailed after James, helping where able. He didn't bother redressing.

With Peter's help, and the food from the pirate ship, James was able to make a stew that was quite tasty, if he did say so himself. Once it was done and they each had a bowl, he sat down and gently tugged Peter into his arms, on his lap.

Peter blinked in surprise but snuggled close. He wouldn't turn down any affection James wanted to give. He took a bite of the stew. "It's really good!" he enthused.

James smiled and kissed his mate's shoulder. "I'm glad you think so." He began eating.

Peter grinned at the kiss, before devoting all his attention to eating. He was relaxed and felt safe. It was the perfect evening.

The End