Peter, upon seeing the captain lost in thought, snapped his fingers a few times right before his eyes to get his attention. “Not much shorter seated. And wouldn’t killing me in my sleep go against your odd code of honor thing? I mean, I would rather you didn’t, but it seems to me you’re a bluffing bastard with no sense for truth.” Peter shrugged, beginning to float as if on instinct, sitting on a seat of air. “Please? My treehouse got burned down after the Lost Boys… oh, never mind all that, I just need a place to stay for the night. Tomorrow I’ll be out of your hair, making a new home and all of that.” he said, the storm coming to a slow drizzle. Peter just needed James to trust him this once, trust that he wouldn’t come to any harm under Peter’s watch. “Look, I’ll sleep on the floor, even, I don’t care. I just need a place to stay.”
James sighed faintly, focusing on Peer again. "I still don't see how you needing a place to stay is any of my business. Have you forgotten everything you've ever done? Every fight we've ever been in?" He tipped his head, collar falling open again and showing the old scar on his neck, the one Peter had given when he himself first grew up. He tapped the hook on the table as well, to bring attention to it. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't gut you right now." He swiped the hook through the air mere inches from Peter's face, though the swipe was not meant to hit him. If it had, it would have. James had only been doing it to prove his point.
Peter sighed. “I don’t have a reason. You have every right to kick me out.” he lowered his head. He spoke again, softer this time. “But… you’re drunk, and we’re both tired. I can’t help you if you’re feeling resentful here, it’s not my business to dictate that. But what I can do is see to it that you remain unharmed through your sleep, from crocodiles or the mermaids or any of them, even the Lost Boys. I’ll keep you safe, and if you’d like, your crew, too.” he said, lowering back to the ground. “Please, James.” Peter hadn’t used James’ real name in years, it was always “Hook” or “Codfish”. He hadn’t even thought of it. But here… here he had to. Here he had to, just to keep himself sane.
James's eyes narrowed at the use of his name. He took another sip of his drink as he considered the question. He couldn't deny that the offer was an interesting one…but to be frank, hardly anyone bothered his crew at night. The mermaids stuck near their lagoon, and he wasn't stupid enough to put down anchor in their lagoon again. The crocodile couldn't get aboard, and the most it might do is disturb his sleep, so long as he wasn't in the water. The Lost Boys had never attacked without Peter, and the natives had never shown an interest in the Spanish Main. He studied Peter for a moment. He couldn't deny that Peter, now a young man rather than a child, was…rather attractive, in his own way. But they were enemies.
Peter moved up to Hook, sitting down before him. “I don’t think that either of us wants to die, so I’m offering a truce, at least for a little while. I’ll make sure that nobody does anything to you if you leave me alone and let me stay for just one night. I won’t even call on the croc and send him after you, you know I could.” he said, placing a rough, calloused hand on James’ knee. He sat the for a while, just breathing and awaiting an answer.
James let out his breath, eyes still narrowed faintly. "Do I no longer scare you?" He said in a low tone, putting his glass down on the table and looking down at Peter. "Hm? You're bigger and older now, and old Hook isn't as scary anymore, is that it?" He got to his feet, looking down at Peter, dark curls falling into his face a little bit.
“James, please. This isn’t the time for games, and I would know better than anyone about that.” he didn’t get up to face James, he looked down at the pirate’s feet instead in agonizing shame. “I need your help. The Lost Boys rejected me, like I rejected you. I know now how much of a mistake that was. Please, can’t we just put the past behind us?”
James frowned a little bit. "The past?" He echoed. "You cut off my hand, Panpipes. Threw it to a crocodile that now spends all its time hunting me. You almost killed me." His flesh hand brushed the scar at his throat, a dark look flickering in his gaze. "You think I can just forget that?" He reached down, hauling Peter up by the front of the shirt, pushing him backwards until the other man's back hit the wall, until they were mere inches apart. The pirate smelled of spice and the sea and the wine he had drunk. "You think I can just forget how many times I've nearly died because of you and your games?"
Peter flushed red, guilt crossing his features as he looked James in the eyes, finally met the pirate’s enraged gaze. “Fine, fine. You have me there. Let’s say this then. You injure me as I injured you. Cut my throat, throw my hand to a crocodile, bruise and slash my back until it bleeds. Have your revenge, but know I won’t stand around here playing your games, either. And for the record, I don’t appreciate drunks, so either sober up, Hook, or die pitiful and alone with only alcohol to console you, I’ll wait.” he was suddenly angry now, kicking the captain back across the room and standing over his body, tall(ish) and proud and so, so pissed.
James, usually so poised, had tripped at the push, falling back onto the floor. He pushed himself up, dark hair messy and unkempt, falling across his face. His hook scratched across the floor, leaving a line of damage behind in the wooden planks. "I've only ever been destined to die alone, Pan." He spat out. "And I am not drunk." He pushed himself to his feet, glaring down at Pan. "You have not seen me drunk, Pan, and you had best pray you never truly do." He wasn't drunk. A little bit, yes, but not enough to make him lose his sense.
"Oh, really." Peter crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, yanking James by his hook and throwing him to the ground. "Because I think you're too boozed to stand!" he kicked his enemy in the ribs, again and again, until standing really would hurt. "You're pathetic." he spat, flecks of saliva flinging themselves onto James' face. Peter kneeled down, taking James' face in his hands and brushing back his unkempt hair. "Oh, James, if only you could see how I've grown. How your blood would freeze." he hissed, standing up and allowing Tinkerbell to land on his shoulder. She looked scared, clinging to the fabric of her skirt anxiously. Peter stepped back towards the door. "Goodbye, James. You had your chance."
James didn't make a sound as he was kicked, merely curled in on himself. When Peter started to walk away, he swiped out with the hook, the deadly thing catching in Peter's pants and ripping through them, all down his calf. The cold metal kissed against the young man's skin, but James hadn't been close enough to actually nick his skin. "Ah, Panpipes. You still don't know the game, do you?"
Peter turned around. “Do you want me to beat you again, Hook? I said, it’s over. You had your chance, and you lost it just as quickly. Honestly, I’m done. Don’t come find me.” he growled, lighting flashing outside the window and wind rocking the ship like a seesaw. “I’m not having this. Tink, let’s go.” he said, turning away from James again and walking towards the door.
He started to laugh. "My chance? As I recall, you're the one that came here begging." He shook his head a little bit, still laughing quietly. He rolled onto his back, grunting faintly but still letting out soft, faint laughs.
"And you're the one who decided not to reconcile. Listen, Codfish, it's cute how you think you can make me do what you want, but you can't. Now, go ahead and drink yourself to death, I'll wait for the funeral bells to start ringing." he said, slowly opening the door and regretting every second of it. He couldn't just leave Hook here, injured and alone, he had to do something. But no, Hook would sooner kill him than be subjected to his care. It was for the best he was leaving.
"Aye? And what do you think I want from this, Panpipes?" He was still laughing quietly, eyes half closed as he lay on his back on the floor. "And again, why would I reconcile with you? After everything you've done, you think you can come crawling in here and demand that I forgive you, is that it? Being cute isn't an excuse, nor does it guarantee forgiveness."
"Okay, you know what? I've changed. I'm not some stupid kid anymore, alright? I don't have to take this!" he shouted, stepping up to James. He immediately jumped on top of him, starting to beat his face. "I'm an adult now, which means I can hurt you now. How does that sound, Codfish? How does it feel for little Peter Pan to have grown out of your stupidity? How does it feel for me to not need you anymore!" he gave a particularly hard punch, hearing the satisfying crack of Hook's nose beneath his fist.
And finally, James snapped. He lashed out with his hook, the sharp metal tearing through Peter's skin as the pirate lurched upwards, teeth bared in a snarl. "This has never had anything to do with need." He hissed, ignoring the way his bruised ribs screamed in pain as he moved, slamming Peter's back against the wall with his forearm pressed to the other man's neck, the tip of his hook pressing into the skin beneath his chin. Blood had started to drip down his face, running across his lips and painting his mouth in a garish red. "You may have grown, but you haven't changed. You're still childish. Selfish. No knowledge of what your actions will cause in the future. You are not an adult, Peter Pan." The derision in his voice was razor sharp, the way his lips were twisted and bloodsmeared something from a nightmare.
Peter allowed himself to be backed into the wall. It was only fair, after all. But he didn’t stay that way for long, kicking ineffectually against James with short, short legs and trying his very best to get James off of his tired body. He was… too tired, being honest, didn’t want to deal with this anymore. “Stop,” he said weakly, ending his kicking, sitting there pinned.
He let out a low laugh. "Stop? And why should I, Pan? When you have kicked me and likely broken my nose? And you think I should stop, just because you say so?" He shook his head a little bit, blue eyes cold and angry. "You are a child, Pan. Being older does not make you an adult. Not when you behave like this."
“Stop, please.” he croaked out once more, raising a limp, bleeding arm to reach Hook’s flesh hand, then up to the hook that was holding him up, clawing weakly so that it barely even brushed the skin. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Kill me if you will. But put an end to the bitterness.” he said, dropping his hand limply back to his side.
Hook sneered again, muscles locked to keep from trembling from the pain in his bruised side. "So it's alright if you beat me when I'm unarmed and on the ground, but if I retaliate than it is no longer alright? Hm? Bad form, Pan. Bad form." He shook his head a little bit.
“Shut up about form, you moron! Nobody cares! You’re a pirate. Pirate’s aren’t supposed to care about form either! You’re the only one crazy enough for that.” Peter said, not wanting to answer the question. “You’re as much of a child as I remember, too.”
Hook snarled. "Answer the question, Panpipes, stop evading it." He growled, still not letting go, the tip of his hook resting against Peter's chin in a move that, from anyone else, with a flesh hand, could have been romantic. With Hook, it was only a reminder of just what he could do to Peter with nothing but that hook of his.
"No, thanks. I'm not playing your stupid games, Hook. Let me go. I'll find somewhere else to stay for the night." he said, face flushing the same red as his hair. It was easy to make young men blush, Peter noted, from embarrassment to shame to… other things. "I don't need your help, and you're certainly not going to offer it."
