My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

22. Tee Dum, Tee De

**Many years ago**

Tootles took his turn at hopscotch, jumping from one foot onto two and then onto one again – his expression distracted. By appearances, Tootles was only about six years old. He teetered precariously on one leg.

"Skunk!" A little girl with a pox-scarred face criticized. "You went too far."

"Sorry." He obediently returned back a square. Skunk was his current alias, a reference to the tail he usually wore.

The girl pouted, putting her hands on her hips in an imitation of her older sister, but Tootles didn't notice. He was furtively watching a mother walking through the market, with her little boy balanced on her hip. Tootles was undercover, playing with the urchin children on Westcana Island as a cover, so that he could scout potential targets.

The mother turned and Tootles got a clear view of her son. The little boy was fair haired, rosy cheeked, cute and about three years old – a perfect match for there buyers 'needs'.

"I have to go," Tootles excused himself, leaving the oblivious little girl to sulk. He followed the mother through the market, weaving his way through the crowded streets. He needed to know where the target lived.

The mother paused at a stall, to chat with its vendor. Tootles' skin prickled uneasily and began to sweat through his ripped tunic. "Tee dum, tee dee," he murmured, "a teedle ee do tee day."

"Why do you do that?" Wendy had asked him once. "Why do you sing that silly song?"

Tootles had shrugged.

"Calms me down, I guess." He'd looked away from her, not wanting to meet Wendy's gaze. He'd always sung that song, for as long as he could remember. Back when Pan had abducted him, he'd sung it to help himself fall  asleep. Sometimes, in his dreams, he heard a woman sing the words in a cheerier tune. Tootles wondered if it was his mother that he was hearing in those dreams.

When he softly sang the song now, it wasn't in a cheery tune. It was a creepy, listless tenor. "Tee dum, tee dee."

        Tootles returned to Pan's lodgings late that evening.

"Find anything?" Pan asked immediately, not waiting for Tootles to even close the door behind him. Pan was wearing a fine fur coat, the padding bulking out his small frame. Fat rings adorned his slender fingers, knocking and clicking against one another.

Since the demise of the Netherland, Pan had started compensating by wearing flashy clothes and had become a compulsive spender. The hidden away lodgings were pokey, since they were in hiding, but Pan had still filled the place with unnecessary pieces. A bearskin rug, a throne that he was currently sprawled upon - with a diamond-set goblet of wine in his grasp.

The other Lost Boys were loitering around the room, lost in clouds of tobacco smoke.

"Yes father, this is the address and details." Tootles held up a scrap of paper that he'd written on.

"Good," Pan grinned, gesturing for Tootles to hand the information to Nibs – their 'fetcher'. Nibs pocketed the parchment.

Tootles heard a movement and his gaze shot up, quick enough to catch Wendy's horrified expression. She looked away and Tootles rubbed the back of his neck. In that moment, he'd read the accusation on her face. 'You know who they want that child for,' her baby blue eyes had shot at him, 'you know – don't pretend that you don't.'