My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

10. Girls Are Strange

Pan played the pan flute for Wendy. They were alone in the captain's quarters once again and Pan was sitting cross-legged – floating in the air. He closed his eyes as he played, lost in the music. It was a slow mournful tune, achingly soft – it seemed to caress the listener. As he neared the end, his eyes flashed open – meeting her gaze, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Wendy tensed but managed to not actually recoil away. She was trying to 'be good' – for John's sake.

She thought of Michael, of his screams, and she could taste hot bile on her tongue. She wanted to grab Pan's flute and ram it down his throat. The song finished and Pan swooped over so that he was closer to her.

"Did you like it, Wendy?"

She compressed her lips to keep them from trembling and forced a smile.

             The lost boys served them food. It was a lords table with a starter of white asparagus followed by dish after dish – duck with figs, lobster, truffles, braised octopus. It was a spectacle of wasted opulence. Wendy had no appetite but she drank a great deal, the unfamiliar taste kicking the back of her throat. Her parents had never offered them alcohol to try but Wendy wanted to occupy herself, it gave her shaking hands a purpose.

"Feed me," Pan requested playfully. Mindful of her decision to think of John, she briskly complied. But Pan disliked her no-fun attitude.

"Open up."She instructed, her voice clipped. He scowled at her.

"I don't like the greens."

"Fine," she tried again.

"Blow on it first," he whined. Wendy's eyebrows shot up. He was a child – a potentially billion-year-old insane man-child.

She blew on the forkful, cooling it, and when she brought the utensil to his mouth Pan parted his lips, eagerly accepting it. Wendy was having to stretch over the table to feed him and, pulling back, she nearly upset the champagne. "Come, sit on my lap. It will be easier."

Wendy's skin crawled at the idea of being so close, but mutely she complied -with the resigned expression of a condemned man.

The ship dipped over the crest of a wave and Wendy stumbled, unused to the motion. Pan snagged her waist, catching her from tripping, and pulled her onto his lap. Wendy continued to feed him, her gaze demurely downcast. Perhaps one day, she mused, I'll poison him. She could feed him the morsel he'd choke and die on. It was a satisfying thought. Her parents would have realised that they were missing by now and they'd have discovered Michael...She had never seen her parents cry and it was a painful image to contemplate.

Wendy's cheek was bruised from where he'd struck her and Pan kissed the mark – with the gentlest of feather light touches. "You'll get used to me, with time. And then it will be easier." He told her, his voice serious and soft. Wendy's head was feeling fuzzy -from drink, tiredness, lack of food, crying so much and being so stressed and scared for so long a period of time.

"The room's," her voice faded, "spinning." She feinted in his arms, her eyes fluttering shut and her head lolling limply back against his chest.

"My darling girl," he crooned lovingly, holding her close.

*

Pan cocked his head to the side.