Building Neverland-Hook Rising

Chapter 6-Quid Pro Quo

The little girl did not scream once as Peter soared over the ocean and to his ship below, her mother's angry voice disappearing far off into the distance behind them. She only held on as tight as she possibly could, burying her face in his shoulder.

Angela shut her eyes as her feet were lifted off of the deck below, emitting not a single sound. She had known of her father's power of flight from stories her mother and other crew shared of him when Angela was supposed to be asleep, it was all she really knew of him as her mother refused to speak on him to her directly. Though, her mother did not do much speaking to her in general. She kept the little girl like a treasure, hidden away and coveted her but paid her little to no mind. She had pieced together bits here and there of information, she knew her father's name was Peter, she knew she looked like him which might have explained her mother's constant hostility towards her, she knew he flew, and she knew he did not know about her. That was it. For all of her short life, she had dreamed of the day she would get to meet him. To stand face to face with him and ask him all of her questions, to know him, to understand him, to call him her father and to be accepted warmly by him.  For warmth was something she did not know well as her mother did not share such easily, if at all. Her mother treated her like she was her biggest regret, a burden upon her back. As the two sailed high up into the skies, she wondered if she might find the parent in him that she had always desired. 

They eventually began to descend upon the Jolly Roger at great speed, and she continued to cling to him good and proper. They landed on the ship's deck, he holding the quivering child in his arms as the rest of the crew neared in growing shock, confusion, and many questions. Mouths agape at the sight of the little girl Nibs rushed forward. 

"Captain...! You're injured!" She stared at first to his missing hand, then at the little girl in absolute shock. All there knew immediately who this must be, and all began to piece together that Moira had indeed been The Crocodile they had heard so much about, and that this was the reason behind her choice to leave their ranks to pursue her own high adventures on the open seas. There could be no other explanation. This was clearly Peter's child. His own flesh and blood. She managed to pull her face from his shoulder, turning to look up at the surrounding group of pirates, blinking large golden eyes in their direction. 

He slowly set her to her feet below, kneeling down to look at her, wrapping his bleeding wrist up in more of the tunic cloth that he tore with his teeth in strips to bind the wound and cease the bleeding. She appeared to be about six or so. Six years made sense as that had been about how long ago it was since Moira had disappeared from them. Give or take a year though none could be quite certain as their travels exposed them to all sorts of shifting seasons and it grew quite difficult to measure the length of time. No one knew what to say at that moment as the crew began whispering and the little girl, brave enough not to cry, just held onto Peter which seemed to surprise him as he rested his hands on the back of her tiny shoulders, her face buried against the side of his abdomen. 

With that he walked her and Nibs to his quarters, only letting Nibs and Tinkerbell who had been sleeping in her little lantern mere moments before, into the room with his daughter. Nibs went to work on his injury, heating up a flat plate of metal until it glowed most vibrant orange. The two were on the opposite side of the room from the girl who had been placed on the edge of the bed and told to remain there. 

"Look away, darling." He said to her with a smile as she hesitantly obeyed, shutting her eyes tight. Nibs then pressed the flat iron to his bleeding wrist, cauterizing it as it smoked and the smell of cooking flesh filled the small quarters unpleasantly. Peter did his best not to scream so as not to frighten the child, biting down on a bit of wood as he sucked in a harsh breath of air and forced himself to be silent however difficult that might have been at that time. Once it was done, Nibs went to work making sure the wound was clean.

"What are we going to do about this now, Captain?" She asked, and Peter, though dizzy from the fumes, the smoke, and the pain, stared in a daze at his now missing hand and the wound he had earned. 

"I have a few ideas." He stated simply.  

It was time to face his daughter. She had opened her eyes since and ran up to him, hugging his leg. He stood there awkwardly, unaccustomed to this sort of affection as he carefully patted the top of her head. He then pulled up one of the wooden chairs and set her down upon it, taking the other seat and turning her to face him as he leaned against the back of the chair at his chest, his arms resting atop it. The sight of his missing grasp caught his attention once again as he studied it and contemplated what he might do in place of it. He had already accepted the loss of his right hand, for the time being, he knew how to fight with his left so he did not break focus. There would be plenty of time in the future to deal with such things, for now, he was more interested in the child.

"Hey there...don't be afraid..." He whispered gently to her, trying to ease her trembling as she avoided eye contact with him, not making any noise and surprisingly not appearing too emotional or crying or whatever little girls did when they were distraught, as he had dealt with plenty in his lifetime aboard his ship. It was very clear she was afraid, possibly of him or the circumstances of which she had found him. Either way, he decided to attempt to put her at ease. "Your name is Angela...right?"

She nodded her head, "Y-Yes Sir..." She responded, little hands fidgeting with the hem of her bloodied yellow dress, "And you're my-my daddy." She got to the point as he nodded his head gently. The two sat there studying one another for several moments while Nibs stood some ways behind them, merely listening and prepared to speak if need be. 

"Yes, I do believe I am. My name is Peter." He stated softly, as she nodded, rubbing her eyes on the backs of her hands. 

"I kn-know Sir..." She stated ever so quietly, wiping her little hands on her dress. Peter smiled softly at her and watched her actions. She was a miniature him in female form and that bewildered and amazed him to a great extent. 

"What do you know?" Peter asked her, and she began. 

"Mama said one day she was sick...and she knew she was sick with me. She said she knew if you or the others found out, you might make her stop being a pirate." She said, having overheard bits and pieces of this story while she lay there many a night pretending to sleep and her angry mother found an ear to vent to in her fellow pirates. "To mama, being a pirate is more important than anything else. She didn't want that so she ran away and got her very own ship and crew..." She whispered softly, calming down a bit. 

Peter clenched his jaws imagining how selfish his bitch of a wife had been. That she could stoop so low as to hide his own child from him for so long all because she refused to give up the very same life that put said child in danger. Still, Peter did not QUITE blame her, as Peter would not be giving up his life of piracy any time soon either. Daughter or no daughter. 

Angela seemed to struggle to hold his gaze, appearing almost afraid to make eye-contact with him and any sudden movement from his form seemed to cause her great distress as she would flinch or her hands would jerk as if she were prepared to shield herself from something. She did not have to tell him how her mother treated her, it was quite plain to see. Eventually, Tinkerbell fluttered into view for the little girl, catching her attention and earning a well deserved charming little smile. She even had his smile. She giggled softly, reaching her hands up to touch the small fairy who fluttered and twinkled within her gentle little grasp. 

"Time is of the essence Tink. We do not have a moment to spare." Peter responded, then looked to the stump that was once his right hand. He could still feel his fingers wiggling somehow and wondered if they wiggled wherever they were at this point? He stood from his chair, commanding Tinkerbell to stay with the little girl and keep her company. "I will be just above, you two stay here and get to know one another, I will have some food brought to you shortly, my dear. Just sit a while, rest, and relax. You are safe here." He said gently, offering her a soft smile before turning and heading in the direction of the door, stopping just short of it to lean in and speak below his breath to Nibs. "Have a hook made...she wants to take my hand? I'll take her daughter." Peter whispered gently to Nibs.

"Aye Captain."

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