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tampered2007-01-26 02:36 am
ironhook.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-01-26 02:36 am
Log: Complete;
When; Jan 15; Safari Day (oops, backdated 8D)
Rating; PG
Characters; Peter Pan![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
all_butone & Captain Hook ironhook
Summary; A time-out, of sorts, from the usual game.
Log;
Peter did not like walking. It was crude and uncomfortable, like shoes that were too tight and then wouldn't come off.
Flying was far faster, and besides that, more fun. Which made it make sense. After all, why would anyone want to walk when they could fly instead? The thought made his chest heavy and tight and he shook his head in an effort the get the feeling to go away. Still, though he'd said nothing about it, especially not to Wendy- Peter couldn't deny how much he missed it. Flying had been his only certainty. It was his freedom. The one way he could always escape, seek adventure- it was an extension of who he was.
Green eyes looked down at bare and dirtied feet and he missed the feel of the wind rushing by. Currents that could be counted on to change his course, change speed, the comfort of the breeze tangling in his hair.
The boy swallowed hard and teeth clenched defiantly. He'd made the exchange. It was over, and he wasn't going to pout about it. Brows furrowed in concentration as he took another look around, trying to regain his bearings. Flying through the forest had been easy, trying to trudge through the brush however, had proved to be a bit tougher than he'd expected. Peter groaned in protest and his shoulders sagged. Great. He was lost again. At this rate he'd never find his way out.
--
James, on the other hand, was completely comfortable with trekking through jungles and forest. After all, how often had he done it back in Neverland? Flying wasn't something he let himself think of very often-- at least not in conjunction with himself. But he had never felt quite so at home walking through the foliage as he did today. Where he was hyperaware as a human, as a feline, it was multiplied by ten. The smell of the leaves, the earth beneath massive paws, the titter of monsters and animals and birds, both natural and cursed. But his restlessness of the passed week had reached its crux, and any patience James had left was gone. Hence was why he jumped ship and started heading towards the City. He needed something-- was searching.
Was tired of waiting.
Ears twitching, the panther suddenly froze, head cocking, bright blue eyes darting to the side. Footsteps, and not of another animal. In fact, he recognized the tread. And, now focused, he could smell them, too: sunshine and morning dew and dirt.
Pan.
Stifling a growl, he lowered, nearly flattening himself to the ground in hiding, staring hard in the direction of the boy.
--
Lips pursed thoughtfully as the boy turned to cast a glance down the path he'd only just created. It was something. At least, Peter acknowledged, he knew where out wasn't. He was frustrated and half tempted to strike something, anything- if only to vent it. If only he could fly he'd be able to find his way out of this stupid place. All sorts of strange animals to fight off had made it a real adventure at first, but when it was hard to sleep because of it, the detail was more of an annoyance than something to be celebrated. Peter himself had been lost amongst the trees and assorted shrubs for the past three days- no doubt Wendy was worried about him.
The thought caused his posture to relax. She was the only person that really worried about him after all, and the last thing he wanted was to upset her. Peter turned once more, walking in a sort of half-circle and looking for anything that seemed familiar before he froze mid-step.
It couldn't be...
Peter held his breath, neck craning just a fraction at the sound.
It was! He could hear the ocean some distance off to his right. Which meant that the City had to be somwhere to his left. The smile was more relief than joy. It was a good thing he was so clever.
--
James bristled as he watched the boy wandering almost aimlessly. Idiot child, from the look of him he had been meandering through the forest for a few days at least. Of course, the tattered look wasn't uncommon for Peter Pan, what with the endless adventures he set out on. But this was different-- he could tell the lack of flight was having its affect. Some of the glow was gone from his eyes, and it only made the pirate-turned-panther angrier.
Loathe as he was to admit it, the curse before this one had taken its toll. Even now he could feel that stomach-eating loneliness in his gut, the mouth-numbing fear of abandonment. James didn't think himself a coward, but that-- he consciously and subconsciously didn't think on those things. How much he needed this wild boy to be the opposing force, the blade against his own. The thing to give him a purpose. And seven, eight, nine days without sight of him--
It wasn't freedom, this soul-eating need. This dependancy. Peter Pan needed to die-- once he was gone, this would never have to be an issue again. And this was the perfect chance-- fighter or not, Pan was no match for the long teeth and sharp claws of this predator. He coiled, muscles tightening, the instinct of hunt taking over.
Kill him.
---
Now on the correct path back hom- to the City, it had become easier to shake off the weariness of the past few days. He could eat something and then curl up and have Wendy tell him a story, and then maybe ask Howl if there was a way he could use magic to be able to fly again and maybe even-
The boy froze suddenly.
He was no stranger to being hunted, to being watched, especially with an enemy who had as keen of eyesight as Jas. Hook. So it came as to surprise to him when he had the familiar sensation of eyes on his back. Someone or something, ready to lash out. Scratched and dirtied fingers reached instinctively for the knife at his side and his knees bent just a fraction as he turned, scanning the brush for his would-be attacker.
So accostomed was he, however, to his hunters being of the animal variety, that when he caught sight of bright blue eyes, a bolt of familiarity shot through him. And yet, those forget-me-nots didn't belong to a man, but instead a- a wild animal. A panther maybe. Brows furrowed again at the sight and Peter's head cocked slightly in curiosity. He'd never seen a real one before, but this one looked facinating. A thought that didn't hesitate to make itself known on his face. "You...are a very big cat."
---
He spoke, and every nerve in James snapped like a tightly strung guitar chord. That sleek figure sprang, lunging from the brush like the shadow of death, and he slammed hard into Pan, massive paws flattening to his chest, shoving him off balance with almost sickening ease. They landed hard, one paw-- claws extended-- flat to the ground near the boy's shoulder, the other pressing heavily down on his shoulder. The cat's ears were flat back, mouth drawn into a full-fledged snarl, all teeth and hunger, and there may have been a glitter of red in those eyes-- but the teeth were far more distracting, centimetres from Peter's face.
Kill him. He had never had Pan trapped so securely before. If ever he had a chance of winning, it was now. Kill him, and this will all be over. His hackles lifted, and he growled low in his throat, leaning harder--
But he couldn't bring himself to close the distance, to sink powerful jaws into the child's neck and rip and tear and leave the forest floor bloody with murder.
He's the only thing left. It doesn't matter. Kill him! Its not the same-- KILL HIM. He doesn't know, its not-- Freedom, James. Kill him and you'll be free. But what will be after that? It will be like-- Death is the greatest freedom of all.
James faltered.
--
In retrospect, he should have expected the pounce. Peter knew, he should have expected the beast to follow it's natural instincts and tackle him to the ground to eat him- but for whatever reason; he blamed exhaustion- he hadn't been able to put the idea together fast enough. He went down with a startled yelp, which turned into a strangled cry the instant he felt sharp claws bite into his shoulder. It stung, more than that, it burned, and Peter had to grit his teeth in a stubborn effort not to cry out once more as the weight of the animal's body only furthered the sensation.
Pain had never been much for him. In all of his past fights with Hook- well, almost all of them, everytime he'd been injured, he'd barely noticed. And yet here and now...
The boy drew in a shaky breath, half expecting his demise. The dagger had been knocked out of his hand when the beast lunged, and with only one arm to use to fight the thing off...well, even Peter knew he didn't stand much of a chance. Still, for whatever reason, the panther seemed indecisive about whether or not to rip his throat out. He assumed it was mostly to cause as much pain as physically possible, and as the boy shifted slightly under it's weight, the panther was doing a fairly good job of it.
Peter swallowed, trying to sort through his mind for something, any small detail that could help...
But this...panther did look rather like a cat. A very, very big cat, with vary big teeth and decidedly sharp claws- but still a cat, right? He'd heard Wendy say something about cats before. About how they could put up a big fuss but were easily won over if you pet them.
The idea seemed completely insane, but it was all he had. But if Peter were afraid, he showed no sign, instead looking up at the creature with a mixture of curiosity, intrigue, and outright facination. His free arm reached up slowly, so not as to cause alarm, before slender fingers found their way to soft black fur, scratching gently just behind an ear.
--
He abandoned you, Jas. The little voice hissed, Left you for that Wendybird.
Jealousy surged through the captain, lancing down his spine and to the ends of his limbs. No. No, Pan was his and that little vixen wasn’t going to change anything. But how long would that last? Girls were too clever for their own good, and Pan was taken with her, if that fairy ball, that kiss, was anything to go by. Where some of his weight had eased, James pressed in again. Kill him and nobody could take him away--
Then, abruptly, Hook’s inner war screeched to a staggering halt. Pan reached up, despite the wound on the opposite shoulder and the fear James could smell, and curled his fingers into the black of his pelt. The gesture, soft and tentative, stunned him motionless and slowly all malevolence drained from his expression. Despite popular belief (not that he contradicted it), comforting touches were less foreign to James then they were simply uncommon. Therefore, he was always surprised when something of this nature happened. It was the same confusion he felt when Kitty had expressed concern for his wellbeing.
But this, unbeknownst to the boy, was far more intimate. The amiable scratch against his scalp triggered, unbidden, a memory of fingers drawing through the dark curls of his hair, soothing the fire in his blood. Only two people knew this particular trick that could calm him: one was dead, and the other wasn’t here.
Suddenly, James was exhausted. The boy didn’t even know it was him, so the victory wouldn’t be the same, anyway. It was that, of course, and not the comforting stroke of fingers through his fur. James forced himself to pull away, stepping out of reach of Peter Pan and sitting down, gaze cutting to the side and away from his would-be prey. As a panther, he was nearly expressionless, but still he managed to create a picture of quiet solitude.
---
The sudden change in demeanor puzzled him, and the boy bit his bottom lip thoughtfully- a subconscious action but one that was easy enough to comprehend. Without so much as a second thought, Peter rolled forward, favoring his wounded shoulder but crouching forward nonetheless. He'd seen plenty of wild creatures in his four-day advent, but Peter had never seen one act anything like this panther. One moment he'd expected to die, the next, the great cat was off to the side looking almost...melancholy.
Which should be silly, since animals weren't supposed to look anything. But for whatever reason, it was an impression he couldn't shake. Green eyes narrowed in concern and Peter leaned forward onto his knees, reaching out gently once more to offer a reassuring but nonetheless curious touch to the side of the panther's face. "Hey, are you...are you alright? Are you sick or something?"
Not that he wasn't happy to no longer be prey, but still... It was strange for animals of any kind to act like that. So maybe here in the City, this one was special. And if so, then Peter Pan certainly wasn't going to let it be if something were wrong with it.
---
He didn't look to Pan right away, but his pelt twitched as the boy's small hand fell on his cheek. Again with the touching. James could pass it off as simply curiousity, but the concern sounded genuine, and taken by this sudden surge of weakness, James found he couldn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it, because he wasn't alright and he didn't have anyone to rant to about it. Nobody to shoot, no Smee to whine to. Kitty had offered her hand, but as much as he liked her-- it was a step he couldn't take. Wouldn't let himself take.
The only one he trusted, in some twisted backwards way, was Pan. The boy who had been there when they arrived at Neverland, had remained relentlessly stubborn and there to push back, goad, taunt, give as good as he got for god-knew-how-long. But he was tired. He couldn't play today-- not the usual game. So maybe, maybe he could use this curse a different way then he had intially intended. Use it as a kind of time-out. Ears folding back, James turned, blue eyeing the boy sideways. But would it work?
---
The moment he'd seen black ears fold back, green eyes widened in understanding. "I knew it! I knew you weren't alright." The feeling of triumpth that came from being correct was easily overrun by the concern. Here he was, lost in the middle of the woods, with a sick panther. The heart of the City couldn't be far, so maybe if he could convince the animal to come with him...maybe he could help then?
Wendy might be frightened- but only at first. He could always explain if he had to, but still, that was only if she were frightened to begin with. Wendy was an awfully brave girl after all. His head had lifted to look in the direction of the City before his attention focused on the cat once more. "But there isn't anything I can do here..." Brows furrowed once more and he hesitated for a moment before an idea struck him. "Will you come home with me?"
--
James blinked. Twice, and it took him a moment to realize exactly what Pan was saying. It was strange to hear from that mouth, those words in that tone of voice. But, somehow, it wasn't that unwelcome of a change. Not today, at least. Any other day and James would be disturbed by it, by the changing rules, by the hopeful look on Peter's face. But since the encounter on the Jolly Roger, and then the absence of a mischevious voice floating down from the airspace around the crow's nest, James had been given too much time to think. All he wanted, at that moment, was to keep the kid close by and possessively hoarde him away from any of the scugs in the City who tried to take his attention away again. Even that Wendylady.
He rumbled from his throat, a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, and bumped his snout hard against Peter's chest. Mine.
---
Green eyes widened once more as the boy was tipped backwards by the sudden contact- nearly falling over but instead smiling openly. "Good, because it would have been hard to drag you out otherwise" Peter teased lightly, his one good hand reaching up to stroke soft fur once more before he stood. Standing itself was a bit shaky, but he managed, albeit with a bit less of his usual grace. Still shaken by the pain in his shoulder- though he was relieved that the sharp heat had subsided into a dull throbbing.
Confidant that the creature would follow, Peter resumed his walk through the forest's underbrush, giving the panther at his side a playful nudge as he spoke. "You had to take my sword arm. That means I won't be able to fight him for a few days you know." His gaze stayed focused on the path ahead, waiting for the trees to thin, scanning for an end to the woods. "I knew you weren't a normal panther...but can I keep you anyway? Not like a pet I guess...I don't know." The smile could be heard in his voice when he continued. "You're the only one that's ever had me that close before."
---
James narrowed his eyes a little as he saw the difficulty Peter had standing, but passed it off. The kid was tough, and a scratch wasn’t going to slow him down, despite what he might say about sword-arms. Tail flicking, he trailed after the boy, blue eyes fixed on his back, listening silently as they made their way down the path. It was strange, listening to the boy talk without that mischeivious sing-song to his voice. And the words were just as jarring. But for what a surprise they were, a curl of satisfaction eased some of the weariness that had taken hold of him so suddenly.
Panther or not, Pan still wanted to keep him—just because he didn’t know who he was, exactly, didn’t change the fact. And he had been very close to taking him that time, and he was the only one who could ever do it. James was rather proud of himself, actually. Drawing himself up a little, a bit of spring returned to his step and he let loose a low purr to show his approval.
---
The boy laughed openly at the purr, taking it as a positive signal. Aside from their deathmatch only moments earlier, the creature was far easier to get along with than he'd thought. Definitely not the average panther. Which sparked his curiosity yes- but Peter was hardly foolish enough to barge in headfirst. After all, the beast had nearly offed him, a more than worthy opponent if the boy wasn't careful.
Nonetheless, emerald-eyes lit up as he saw the forest's edge come into view and a wide smile spread across his lips. "Our room isn't far from here." He said simply, stepping out of the plantlife and onto smooth concrete. Still... what would he do once they reached it? He'd never taken care of a sick anything before; after all, Wendy had always been there with her stories and her medicine. But now he was on his own, and as the pair reached the room's entrance, Peter held the door open distractedly. "I've never taken care of a sick panther before. Are you tired...or hungry?" He hoped they were the right questions to ask, after all, whenever he was sick, it was usually because he was tired from adventuring so much, or because his stomach was making noises, or because he was sad about something...
Brows furrowed as the boy plopped down haphazardly on the floor.
"Are you sad?"
---
James hesitated a fraction of a second before entering the building, and once before before entering the room. After all, the last time he had been here... James shoved the thought away, pushed his unease down and stepped into the apartment as if he were proving a point. Once there, though, he was completely distracted, and missed most of what Peter was saying.
It was exactly the same. Even the blankets were still on the floor, albeit folded up at the base of the couch. He wandered over to the pile, nudging it with one paw before hearing Pan's final question. Only then did his ears slant back just a little, but he didn't turn around right away. And that, if nothing else, was telling enough.
---
Peter merely blinked, and it took a fraction of a minute for the action to register as a response. He'd lowered his ears earlier when he'd gotten all distant... the boy frowned. It felt like they were going in circles, or at the very least, that Peter wasn't winning at whatever it was he was trying to win. ...Was he trying to win?
Golden locks fell across is face as he shook his head slightly, attempting to refocus. "Right, so you are sad. I don't like being sad either, so I always try to do something fun to cover it up instead. Like playing games, do you like games? Actually...what do you like?" The question sparked a surge of others and without thought, the boy was leaning forward on his hands, neck craning in an attempt to catch sight of the creature's face. "Do you have a name?"
---
Despite himself, the mention of games perked him up. It always did, though he would never admit it to anyone. But Pan had a point, they were a good distraction against sorrow filled thoughts. It was the question of his name, however, that pulled his attention back around. Large paws shifted as he twisted away from the blankets he had taken to staring at, forget-me-nots turning to meet the bright jade staring widely at him.
A name? Of course he did. But he wasn't about to tell Peter Pan what it was today. That wasn't part of this game. So, instead, he canted his head slightly, returning the curious look.
----
Well, that wide eyed stare was answer enough. "Right, since you're an animal I guess you don't have one." Lips pursed thoughtfully, an almost frown as he grabbed a stray pillow from off to the side and tossed it down for the panther to lounge on. "I guess I could give you a name, but I'm not very good at naming things."
It was about as much thought as he'd ever given the subject, and without another word, the boy shrugged. Besides, the intensity of the creature's eyes bothered him, familiar and unsettling. He half wished the panther could speak, if only to avoid being stared at- which was strange because Peter loved being noticed. "You have blue eyes."
It was a matter of fact statement, almost as if noting it to remember for later. "Everyone has blue eyes. You, and Wendy, and James and Hook..." The words trailed off there and his demenor shifted once more as he looked back to his new companion with raised brows and a curious smile. "How about I get you something to eat. Cats like milk, do you drink milk?"
--
Had he been human, James would have arched an eyebrow at the obvious comment. But the feeling changed, closer to jealousy and annoyance at being compared to the Wendy-bird. He lowered his head a little, watching him, waiting for him to go on with that train of thought-- only to be thrown off by the topic of food. Milk, to be precise. James drew himself up, almost indignant-- he a simple cat?-- but stopped halfway through the motion. He had eaten very little this passed week, having been in such the mood he was and without Smee around to haggle him into dining. .
Still, stubborn as he was, James huffed and sat down. He wasn't about to admit that milk sounded like quite the treat. Though he blamed that partly on the fact that he was currently a cat, and its instincts were influencing some of his actions.
---
There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the panther was pouting....well, as much as a panther -could- pout anyway. In anycase, Peter was taking the response and a yes and hopped over a nearby chair as he bounded into the kitchen. To his dismay, he hadn't spotted Wendy yet- which was a shame all things considered. He had a feeling she'd have liked to meet a panther. The boy shrugged unconsciously, fishing a bowl out of one of the cupboards and filling it with milk before he made his way back to the other room and set it on the floor.
Peter himself settled back down amidst the strewn pillows and rested his chin on his hand. "There. If you're still sad after that, we can play a game. Though...what kinds of games do you like to play?"
--
James stared at the bowl for a moment, then lowered his nose to scent at it, as if suspicious. This was Pan, after all, and old habits died hard. Still, his appetite got the better of him, and crouching just a little he quickly lapped up all of the milk, both ears twinned towards Pan’s voice. He didn’t bother with a reply, though, instead licking his lips with pure satisfaction when he lifted his head to regard his rival thoughtfully.
Despite his earlier decision against games, Hook found he still couldn’t resist the prospect. And in a decidedly better mood now then before, it didn’t feel like it would be such a chore. Not to mention his sense of play was twice as demanding in this form. Purring from low in his throat, James lowered his head a little and stared at Pan intently, eyes full of mischief.
---
Normally Peter wasn't one to enjoy sitting about, doing nothing. Though, considering he'd only just escaped the woods, the boy decided that just this once he could make an exception. Besides, the panther seemed quite satisfied, so it could be considered a job well done as far as he was concerned.
He just hoped Wendy wouldn't mind that he'd made the room a bit dirtier.
Peter felt the eyes on him before the purr reached his ears. Blinking out of his half-daze, he turned to face the creature with a clearly puzzled expression. For some reason or another, the mischievious glint in the cat's eyes made him uneasy. "...Yes?"
--
It seemed as though Peter's eyes on him was exactly what hte panther had been waiting for. The question had hardly left Peter's mouth before he pounced, although this time there was nothing vicious about the attack. In fact, as far as killer animals go, it was more of a heavy bump to send the boy sprawling. James braced over him, all four paws forming a cage around his torso and lower body. He was still purring, tail switching playfully.
--
Peter was not one to be caught off guard- but even anticipating the attack, there wasn't much to be done. After all, the cat was far more powerful, even when just being playful. Undeterred, the boy laughed "That was a sneak attack! Cheater!" he proclaimed. With the position he was in, Peter knew he'd be unable to sit up to fight properly, but he could still roll to the side. The panther would need it's legs to stand up on right? With an impish grin, he did just that, body rolling to the right to escape from underneath the beast and then pounced properly, arms catching around the cat's middle as he rolled it over.
--
James responded by purring louder, and though he could have easily fought against the tackle-- bulkier in muscle as he was-- the panther chose not to. Instead, he leaned into the roll, allowing Pan to momentarily pin him belly-up. It didn't last long, though, as he cuffed the boy about the crown lightly with one massive paw, then lurched to push him off and away. Rolling to his paws again, he pounced once more, this time from the side, throwing one paw across the youth's middle, leaning his furred chest against Peter's ribs to pin him down. There he canted his head, ears pricking, and almost seemed to grin triumphantly down at the boy.*
--
"You don't think you've won yet do you?" The boy teased. If Peter was bothered by the fact that he was currently pinned beneath a frighteningly dangerous animal, he certainly didn't show it. In all honesty he was far too busy having fun. To him, it was no different from playing with an ordinary house cat...albeit a rather large one. A mischievious grin played on the corner of his mouth and instead of using brute force to attempt to overthrow the panther. Besides, wonderful boy or not, spending so much time in the woods had left him too exhausted to put up a decent fight with the beast. Instead Peter reached up behind soft black ears to scratch affectionately once more.
Hn. That cat wasn't the only one who could cheat.
--
And it worked like a charm. As soon as the fingers were in his fur again, James inclined his head towards the touch, neck arching. Piercingly blue eyes half-lidded, unfocusing as he gave a long, low purr of pleasure. Cheater, he thought offhandedly, but didn't make any move to take up the wrestling match again. Instead he eased his weight off of Peter and stretched out next to him, leaning in to nuzzle possessively against his chest. Stupid boy. He'd better not pull another stunt like that in the future. He was lucky James was just tired, was all.
But for these thoughts, there was nothing harsh about his movements, and the purr remained steady and strong.
--
The boy's hands followed as the panther moved to rest on his chest, and the impish smirk faded into a soft, contented smile. Wrestling match clearly over, Peter was more than happy to note that his feline companion had no qualms about settling down for a nap. He reached up to muffle a would-be yawn with his arm and allowed his body to stretch out. The recent clawing notwithstanding, the boy really was quite sore. Arms and legs felt like lead and not even the promise of an entertaining faux battle was enough to rouse him. Fingers slowed to rake through fur at the panther's neck in reassuring circles. "I know I promised you a game, but lets sleep for a little while alright? Then we can go explore. We can play chase...it will be harder now because I'll have to run, but it will still be fun. I used to be able to fly you know." Peter's voice had softened to a hazy lull, sleepy at the edges but still bragging in intent.
---
I know, Jas. thought, eyes half-lidding as he rested his chin on Peter's chest. The petting against his neck was incredibly relaxing, and sleep-- sleep sounded nice. He hadn't been sleeping well at all for the passed week or so, and it was starting to catch up, he found. Of course, the gentle pull of fingers through his fur wasn't helping the matter at all. Still, he had enough presence of mind to keep his ears pricked to the boy, listening intently.
---
"I'll be able to again soon too, just you wait-" he continued, pausing only to let another yawn escape. "I have to. I don't want James and Wendy to know." Shoulders shifted once more and Peter's head turned to the side, cheek brushing against soft blankets as he let his own eyes close. "Hook already knows and that..." The boy trailed off as he reached up to run a hand though his own hair and when he spoke again, sleep had softened his words. "I don't want him thinking that I'm...deficient. I couldn't bear it."
---
It took him a moment to realize exactly what Peter said, and when he did he lifted his head just a little with surprise and soft confusion. Deficient? What in the blazes was that supposed to mean? And since when was Pan concerned about that? Jas shifted just a little closer and pushed his snout up under the boy's chin, once, before settling against his side. Deficient. There was nothing deficient about him, even if he couldn't fly-- and that was, really, a minor inconvenience. A small problem that could-- would be solved.
With a soft huff, the panther turned his head, soft cheek pressing against the centre of Peter's chest. Well, whoever had put the thought in his head, they were wrong. Pan was a lot of things-- annoying, naive, cocky, a troublemaker-- but deficient wasn't one of them. Not that Jas ever planned to tell him that. But still.
--
Had he been a bit closer to awake than sleep, the forever boy might have smiled at the gesture. In it's own way, the contact was comforting, though Peter had all but made a conscious decision to avoid such things altogether- from people anyway. Beyond that- thought was hazy at best, and the boy's breathed slowed. "You...smell like the ocean..."
As much of a goodnight as he could hope to offer.
--
Jas watched him through slitted eyes a moment longer after he murmured the vague 'goodnight', thinking on what the wild child had said. Then, mentally shaking himself, the pirate-turned-feline shoved the contemplations aside. Not today, he thought. Today was a time-out, and he planned to keep it that way. And a nap didn't sound like a such a bad idea. So, finally succumbing, he closed his eyes, still purring softly, and relaxed against the boy, focusing on the smell of summer sun and spring grass and the feel of fingers in his fur.
Rating; PG
Characters; Peter Pan
all_butone & Captain Hook ironhookSummary; A time-out, of sorts, from the usual game.
Log;
Peter did not like walking. It was crude and uncomfortable, like shoes that were too tight and then wouldn't come off.
Flying was far faster, and besides that, more fun. Which made it make sense. After all, why would anyone want to walk when they could fly instead? The thought made his chest heavy and tight and he shook his head in an effort the get the feeling to go away. Still, though he'd said nothing about it, especially not to Wendy- Peter couldn't deny how much he missed it. Flying had been his only certainty. It was his freedom. The one way he could always escape, seek adventure- it was an extension of who he was.
Green eyes looked down at bare and dirtied feet and he missed the feel of the wind rushing by. Currents that could be counted on to change his course, change speed, the comfort of the breeze tangling in his hair.
The boy swallowed hard and teeth clenched defiantly. He'd made the exchange. It was over, and he wasn't going to pout about it. Brows furrowed in concentration as he took another look around, trying to regain his bearings. Flying through the forest had been easy, trying to trudge through the brush however, had proved to be a bit tougher than he'd expected. Peter groaned in protest and his shoulders sagged. Great. He was lost again. At this rate he'd never find his way out.
--
James, on the other hand, was completely comfortable with trekking through jungles and forest. After all, how often had he done it back in Neverland? Flying wasn't something he let himself think of very often-- at least not in conjunction with himself. But he had never felt quite so at home walking through the foliage as he did today. Where he was hyperaware as a human, as a feline, it was multiplied by ten. The smell of the leaves, the earth beneath massive paws, the titter of monsters and animals and birds, both natural and cursed. But his restlessness of the passed week had reached its crux, and any patience James had left was gone. Hence was why he jumped ship and started heading towards the City. He needed something-- was searching.
Was tired of waiting.
Ears twitching, the panther suddenly froze, head cocking, bright blue eyes darting to the side. Footsteps, and not of another animal. In fact, he recognized the tread. And, now focused, he could smell them, too: sunshine and morning dew and dirt.
Pan.
Stifling a growl, he lowered, nearly flattening himself to the ground in hiding, staring hard in the direction of the boy.
--
Lips pursed thoughtfully as the boy turned to cast a glance down the path he'd only just created. It was something. At least, Peter acknowledged, he knew where out wasn't. He was frustrated and half tempted to strike something, anything- if only to vent it. If only he could fly he'd be able to find his way out of this stupid place. All sorts of strange animals to fight off had made it a real adventure at first, but when it was hard to sleep because of it, the detail was more of an annoyance than something to be celebrated. Peter himself had been lost amongst the trees and assorted shrubs for the past three days- no doubt Wendy was worried about him.
The thought caused his posture to relax. She was the only person that really worried about him after all, and the last thing he wanted was to upset her. Peter turned once more, walking in a sort of half-circle and looking for anything that seemed familiar before he froze mid-step.
It couldn't be...
Peter held his breath, neck craning just a fraction at the sound.
It was! He could hear the ocean some distance off to his right. Which meant that the City had to be somwhere to his left. The smile was more relief than joy. It was a good thing he was so clever.
--
James bristled as he watched the boy wandering almost aimlessly. Idiot child, from the look of him he had been meandering through the forest for a few days at least. Of course, the tattered look wasn't uncommon for Peter Pan, what with the endless adventures he set out on. But this was different-- he could tell the lack of flight was having its affect. Some of the glow was gone from his eyes, and it only made the pirate-turned-panther angrier.
Loathe as he was to admit it, the curse before this one had taken its toll. Even now he could feel that stomach-eating loneliness in his gut, the mouth-numbing fear of abandonment. James didn't think himself a coward, but that-- he consciously and subconsciously didn't think on those things. How much he needed this wild boy to be the opposing force, the blade against his own. The thing to give him a purpose. And seven, eight, nine days without sight of him--
It wasn't freedom, this soul-eating need. This dependancy. Peter Pan needed to die-- once he was gone, this would never have to be an issue again. And this was the perfect chance-- fighter or not, Pan was no match for the long teeth and sharp claws of this predator. He coiled, muscles tightening, the instinct of hunt taking over.
Kill him.
---
Now on the correct path back hom- to the City, it had become easier to shake off the weariness of the past few days. He could eat something and then curl up and have Wendy tell him a story, and then maybe ask Howl if there was a way he could use magic to be able to fly again and maybe even-
The boy froze suddenly.
He was no stranger to being hunted, to being watched, especially with an enemy who had as keen of eyesight as Jas. Hook. So it came as to surprise to him when he had the familiar sensation of eyes on his back. Someone or something, ready to lash out. Scratched and dirtied fingers reached instinctively for the knife at his side and his knees bent just a fraction as he turned, scanning the brush for his would-be attacker.
So accostomed was he, however, to his hunters being of the animal variety, that when he caught sight of bright blue eyes, a bolt of familiarity shot through him. And yet, those forget-me-nots didn't belong to a man, but instead a- a wild animal. A panther maybe. Brows furrowed again at the sight and Peter's head cocked slightly in curiosity. He'd never seen a real one before, but this one looked facinating. A thought that didn't hesitate to make itself known on his face. "You...are a very big cat."
---
He spoke, and every nerve in James snapped like a tightly strung guitar chord. That sleek figure sprang, lunging from the brush like the shadow of death, and he slammed hard into Pan, massive paws flattening to his chest, shoving him off balance with almost sickening ease. They landed hard, one paw-- claws extended-- flat to the ground near the boy's shoulder, the other pressing heavily down on his shoulder. The cat's ears were flat back, mouth drawn into a full-fledged snarl, all teeth and hunger, and there may have been a glitter of red in those eyes-- but the teeth were far more distracting, centimetres from Peter's face.
Kill him. He had never had Pan trapped so securely before. If ever he had a chance of winning, it was now. Kill him, and this will all be over. His hackles lifted, and he growled low in his throat, leaning harder--
But he couldn't bring himself to close the distance, to sink powerful jaws into the child's neck and rip and tear and leave the forest floor bloody with murder.
He's the only thing left. It doesn't matter. Kill him! Its not the same-- KILL HIM. He doesn't know, its not-- Freedom, James. Kill him and you'll be free. But what will be after that? It will be like-- Death is the greatest freedom of all.
James faltered.
--
In retrospect, he should have expected the pounce. Peter knew, he should have expected the beast to follow it's natural instincts and tackle him to the ground to eat him- but for whatever reason; he blamed exhaustion- he hadn't been able to put the idea together fast enough. He went down with a startled yelp, which turned into a strangled cry the instant he felt sharp claws bite into his shoulder. It stung, more than that, it burned, and Peter had to grit his teeth in a stubborn effort not to cry out once more as the weight of the animal's body only furthered the sensation.
Pain had never been much for him. In all of his past fights with Hook- well, almost all of them, everytime he'd been injured, he'd barely noticed. And yet here and now...
The boy drew in a shaky breath, half expecting his demise. The dagger had been knocked out of his hand when the beast lunged, and with only one arm to use to fight the thing off...well, even Peter knew he didn't stand much of a chance. Still, for whatever reason, the panther seemed indecisive about whether or not to rip his throat out. He assumed it was mostly to cause as much pain as physically possible, and as the boy shifted slightly under it's weight, the panther was doing a fairly good job of it.
Peter swallowed, trying to sort through his mind for something, any small detail that could help...
But this...panther did look rather like a cat. A very, very big cat, with vary big teeth and decidedly sharp claws- but still a cat, right? He'd heard Wendy say something about cats before. About how they could put up a big fuss but were easily won over if you pet them.
The idea seemed completely insane, but it was all he had. But if Peter were afraid, he showed no sign, instead looking up at the creature with a mixture of curiosity, intrigue, and outright facination. His free arm reached up slowly, so not as to cause alarm, before slender fingers found their way to soft black fur, scratching gently just behind an ear.
--
He abandoned you, Jas. The little voice hissed, Left you for that Wendybird.
Jealousy surged through the captain, lancing down his spine and to the ends of his limbs. No. No, Pan was his and that little vixen wasn’t going to change anything. But how long would that last? Girls were too clever for their own good, and Pan was taken with her, if that fairy ball, that kiss, was anything to go by. Where some of his weight had eased, James pressed in again. Kill him and nobody could take him away--
Then, abruptly, Hook’s inner war screeched to a staggering halt. Pan reached up, despite the wound on the opposite shoulder and the fear James could smell, and curled his fingers into the black of his pelt. The gesture, soft and tentative, stunned him motionless and slowly all malevolence drained from his expression. Despite popular belief (not that he contradicted it), comforting touches were less foreign to James then they were simply uncommon. Therefore, he was always surprised when something of this nature happened. It was the same confusion he felt when Kitty had expressed concern for his wellbeing.
But this, unbeknownst to the boy, was far more intimate. The amiable scratch against his scalp triggered, unbidden, a memory of fingers drawing through the dark curls of his hair, soothing the fire in his blood. Only two people knew this particular trick that could calm him: one was dead, and the other wasn’t here.
Suddenly, James was exhausted. The boy didn’t even know it was him, so the victory wouldn’t be the same, anyway. It was that, of course, and not the comforting stroke of fingers through his fur. James forced himself to pull away, stepping out of reach of Peter Pan and sitting down, gaze cutting to the side and away from his would-be prey. As a panther, he was nearly expressionless, but still he managed to create a picture of quiet solitude.
---
The sudden change in demeanor puzzled him, and the boy bit his bottom lip thoughtfully- a subconscious action but one that was easy enough to comprehend. Without so much as a second thought, Peter rolled forward, favoring his wounded shoulder but crouching forward nonetheless. He'd seen plenty of wild creatures in his four-day advent, but Peter had never seen one act anything like this panther. One moment he'd expected to die, the next, the great cat was off to the side looking almost...melancholy.
Which should be silly, since animals weren't supposed to look anything. But for whatever reason, it was an impression he couldn't shake. Green eyes narrowed in concern and Peter leaned forward onto his knees, reaching out gently once more to offer a reassuring but nonetheless curious touch to the side of the panther's face. "Hey, are you...are you alright? Are you sick or something?"
Not that he wasn't happy to no longer be prey, but still... It was strange for animals of any kind to act like that. So maybe here in the City, this one was special. And if so, then Peter Pan certainly wasn't going to let it be if something were wrong with it.
---
He didn't look to Pan right away, but his pelt twitched as the boy's small hand fell on his cheek. Again with the touching. James could pass it off as simply curiousity, but the concern sounded genuine, and taken by this sudden surge of weakness, James found he couldn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it, because he wasn't alright and he didn't have anyone to rant to about it. Nobody to shoot, no Smee to whine to. Kitty had offered her hand, but as much as he liked her-- it was a step he couldn't take. Wouldn't let himself take.
The only one he trusted, in some twisted backwards way, was Pan. The boy who had been there when they arrived at Neverland, had remained relentlessly stubborn and there to push back, goad, taunt, give as good as he got for god-knew-how-long. But he was tired. He couldn't play today-- not the usual game. So maybe, maybe he could use this curse a different way then he had intially intended. Use it as a kind of time-out. Ears folding back, James turned, blue eyeing the boy sideways. But would it work?
---
The moment he'd seen black ears fold back, green eyes widened in understanding. "I knew it! I knew you weren't alright." The feeling of triumpth that came from being correct was easily overrun by the concern. Here he was, lost in the middle of the woods, with a sick panther. The heart of the City couldn't be far, so maybe if he could convince the animal to come with him...maybe he could help then?
Wendy might be frightened- but only at first. He could always explain if he had to, but still, that was only if she were frightened to begin with. Wendy was an awfully brave girl after all. His head had lifted to look in the direction of the City before his attention focused on the cat once more. "But there isn't anything I can do here..." Brows furrowed once more and he hesitated for a moment before an idea struck him. "Will you come home with me?"
--
James blinked. Twice, and it took him a moment to realize exactly what Pan was saying. It was strange to hear from that mouth, those words in that tone of voice. But, somehow, it wasn't that unwelcome of a change. Not today, at least. Any other day and James would be disturbed by it, by the changing rules, by the hopeful look on Peter's face. But since the encounter on the Jolly Roger, and then the absence of a mischevious voice floating down from the airspace around the crow's nest, James had been given too much time to think. All he wanted, at that moment, was to keep the kid close by and possessively hoarde him away from any of the scugs in the City who tried to take his attention away again. Even that Wendylady.
He rumbled from his throat, a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, and bumped his snout hard against Peter's chest. Mine.
---
Green eyes widened once more as the boy was tipped backwards by the sudden contact- nearly falling over but instead smiling openly. "Good, because it would have been hard to drag you out otherwise" Peter teased lightly, his one good hand reaching up to stroke soft fur once more before he stood. Standing itself was a bit shaky, but he managed, albeit with a bit less of his usual grace. Still shaken by the pain in his shoulder- though he was relieved that the sharp heat had subsided into a dull throbbing.
Confidant that the creature would follow, Peter resumed his walk through the forest's underbrush, giving the panther at his side a playful nudge as he spoke. "You had to take my sword arm. That means I won't be able to fight him for a few days you know." His gaze stayed focused on the path ahead, waiting for the trees to thin, scanning for an end to the woods. "I knew you weren't a normal panther...but can I keep you anyway? Not like a pet I guess...I don't know." The smile could be heard in his voice when he continued. "You're the only one that's ever had me that close before."
---
James narrowed his eyes a little as he saw the difficulty Peter had standing, but passed it off. The kid was tough, and a scratch wasn’t going to slow him down, despite what he might say about sword-arms. Tail flicking, he trailed after the boy, blue eyes fixed on his back, listening silently as they made their way down the path. It was strange, listening to the boy talk without that mischeivious sing-song to his voice. And the words were just as jarring. But for what a surprise they were, a curl of satisfaction eased some of the weariness that had taken hold of him so suddenly.
Panther or not, Pan still wanted to keep him—just because he didn’t know who he was, exactly, didn’t change the fact. And he had been very close to taking him that time, and he was the only one who could ever do it. James was rather proud of himself, actually. Drawing himself up a little, a bit of spring returned to his step and he let loose a low purr to show his approval.
---
The boy laughed openly at the purr, taking it as a positive signal. Aside from their deathmatch only moments earlier, the creature was far easier to get along with than he'd thought. Definitely not the average panther. Which sparked his curiosity yes- but Peter was hardly foolish enough to barge in headfirst. After all, the beast had nearly offed him, a more than worthy opponent if the boy wasn't careful.
Nonetheless, emerald-eyes lit up as he saw the forest's edge come into view and a wide smile spread across his lips. "Our room isn't far from here." He said simply, stepping out of the plantlife and onto smooth concrete. Still... what would he do once they reached it? He'd never taken care of a sick anything before; after all, Wendy had always been there with her stories and her medicine. But now he was on his own, and as the pair reached the room's entrance, Peter held the door open distractedly. "I've never taken care of a sick panther before. Are you tired...or hungry?" He hoped they were the right questions to ask, after all, whenever he was sick, it was usually because he was tired from adventuring so much, or because his stomach was making noises, or because he was sad about something...
Brows furrowed as the boy plopped down haphazardly on the floor.
"Are you sad?"
---
James hesitated a fraction of a second before entering the building, and once before before entering the room. After all, the last time he had been here... James shoved the thought away, pushed his unease down and stepped into the apartment as if he were proving a point. Once there, though, he was completely distracted, and missed most of what Peter was saying.
It was exactly the same. Even the blankets were still on the floor, albeit folded up at the base of the couch. He wandered over to the pile, nudging it with one paw before hearing Pan's final question. Only then did his ears slant back just a little, but he didn't turn around right away. And that, if nothing else, was telling enough.
---
Peter merely blinked, and it took a fraction of a minute for the action to register as a response. He'd lowered his ears earlier when he'd gotten all distant... the boy frowned. It felt like they were going in circles, or at the very least, that Peter wasn't winning at whatever it was he was trying to win. ...Was he trying to win?
Golden locks fell across is face as he shook his head slightly, attempting to refocus. "Right, so you are sad. I don't like being sad either, so I always try to do something fun to cover it up instead. Like playing games, do you like games? Actually...what do you like?" The question sparked a surge of others and without thought, the boy was leaning forward on his hands, neck craning in an attempt to catch sight of the creature's face. "Do you have a name?"
---
Despite himself, the mention of games perked him up. It always did, though he would never admit it to anyone. But Pan had a point, they were a good distraction against sorrow filled thoughts. It was the question of his name, however, that pulled his attention back around. Large paws shifted as he twisted away from the blankets he had taken to staring at, forget-me-nots turning to meet the bright jade staring widely at him.
A name? Of course he did. But he wasn't about to tell Peter Pan what it was today. That wasn't part of this game. So, instead, he canted his head slightly, returning the curious look.
----
Well, that wide eyed stare was answer enough. "Right, since you're an animal I guess you don't have one." Lips pursed thoughtfully, an almost frown as he grabbed a stray pillow from off to the side and tossed it down for the panther to lounge on. "I guess I could give you a name, but I'm not very good at naming things."
It was about as much thought as he'd ever given the subject, and without another word, the boy shrugged. Besides, the intensity of the creature's eyes bothered him, familiar and unsettling. He half wished the panther could speak, if only to avoid being stared at- which was strange because Peter loved being noticed. "You have blue eyes."
It was a matter of fact statement, almost as if noting it to remember for later. "Everyone has blue eyes. You, and Wendy, and James and Hook..." The words trailed off there and his demenor shifted once more as he looked back to his new companion with raised brows and a curious smile. "How about I get you something to eat. Cats like milk, do you drink milk?"
--
Had he been human, James would have arched an eyebrow at the obvious comment. But the feeling changed, closer to jealousy and annoyance at being compared to the Wendy-bird. He lowered his head a little, watching him, waiting for him to go on with that train of thought-- only to be thrown off by the topic of food. Milk, to be precise. James drew himself up, almost indignant-- he a simple cat?-- but stopped halfway through the motion. He had eaten very little this passed week, having been in such the mood he was and without Smee around to haggle him into dining. .
Still, stubborn as he was, James huffed and sat down. He wasn't about to admit that milk sounded like quite the treat. Though he blamed that partly on the fact that he was currently a cat, and its instincts were influencing some of his actions.
---
There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the panther was pouting....well, as much as a panther -could- pout anyway. In anycase, Peter was taking the response and a yes and hopped over a nearby chair as he bounded into the kitchen. To his dismay, he hadn't spotted Wendy yet- which was a shame all things considered. He had a feeling she'd have liked to meet a panther. The boy shrugged unconsciously, fishing a bowl out of one of the cupboards and filling it with milk before he made his way back to the other room and set it on the floor.
Peter himself settled back down amidst the strewn pillows and rested his chin on his hand. "There. If you're still sad after that, we can play a game. Though...what kinds of games do you like to play?"
--
James stared at the bowl for a moment, then lowered his nose to scent at it, as if suspicious. This was Pan, after all, and old habits died hard. Still, his appetite got the better of him, and crouching just a little he quickly lapped up all of the milk, both ears twinned towards Pan’s voice. He didn’t bother with a reply, though, instead licking his lips with pure satisfaction when he lifted his head to regard his rival thoughtfully.
Despite his earlier decision against games, Hook found he still couldn’t resist the prospect. And in a decidedly better mood now then before, it didn’t feel like it would be such a chore. Not to mention his sense of play was twice as demanding in this form. Purring from low in his throat, James lowered his head a little and stared at Pan intently, eyes full of mischief.
---
Normally Peter wasn't one to enjoy sitting about, doing nothing. Though, considering he'd only just escaped the woods, the boy decided that just this once he could make an exception. Besides, the panther seemed quite satisfied, so it could be considered a job well done as far as he was concerned.
He just hoped Wendy wouldn't mind that he'd made the room a bit dirtier.
Peter felt the eyes on him before the purr reached his ears. Blinking out of his half-daze, he turned to face the creature with a clearly puzzled expression. For some reason or another, the mischievious glint in the cat's eyes made him uneasy. "...Yes?"
--
It seemed as though Peter's eyes on him was exactly what hte panther had been waiting for. The question had hardly left Peter's mouth before he pounced, although this time there was nothing vicious about the attack. In fact, as far as killer animals go, it was more of a heavy bump to send the boy sprawling. James braced over him, all four paws forming a cage around his torso and lower body. He was still purring, tail switching playfully.
--
Peter was not one to be caught off guard- but even anticipating the attack, there wasn't much to be done. After all, the cat was far more powerful, even when just being playful. Undeterred, the boy laughed "That was a sneak attack! Cheater!" he proclaimed. With the position he was in, Peter knew he'd be unable to sit up to fight properly, but he could still roll to the side. The panther would need it's legs to stand up on right? With an impish grin, he did just that, body rolling to the right to escape from underneath the beast and then pounced properly, arms catching around the cat's middle as he rolled it over.
--
James responded by purring louder, and though he could have easily fought against the tackle-- bulkier in muscle as he was-- the panther chose not to. Instead, he leaned into the roll, allowing Pan to momentarily pin him belly-up. It didn't last long, though, as he cuffed the boy about the crown lightly with one massive paw, then lurched to push him off and away. Rolling to his paws again, he pounced once more, this time from the side, throwing one paw across the youth's middle, leaning his furred chest against Peter's ribs to pin him down. There he canted his head, ears pricking, and almost seemed to grin triumphantly down at the boy.*
--
"You don't think you've won yet do you?" The boy teased. If Peter was bothered by the fact that he was currently pinned beneath a frighteningly dangerous animal, he certainly didn't show it. In all honesty he was far too busy having fun. To him, it was no different from playing with an ordinary house cat...albeit a rather large one. A mischievious grin played on the corner of his mouth and instead of using brute force to attempt to overthrow the panther. Besides, wonderful boy or not, spending so much time in the woods had left him too exhausted to put up a decent fight with the beast. Instead Peter reached up behind soft black ears to scratch affectionately once more.
Hn. That cat wasn't the only one who could cheat.
--
And it worked like a charm. As soon as the fingers were in his fur again, James inclined his head towards the touch, neck arching. Piercingly blue eyes half-lidded, unfocusing as he gave a long, low purr of pleasure. Cheater, he thought offhandedly, but didn't make any move to take up the wrestling match again. Instead he eased his weight off of Peter and stretched out next to him, leaning in to nuzzle possessively against his chest. Stupid boy. He'd better not pull another stunt like that in the future. He was lucky James was just tired, was all.
But for these thoughts, there was nothing harsh about his movements, and the purr remained steady and strong.
--
The boy's hands followed as the panther moved to rest on his chest, and the impish smirk faded into a soft, contented smile. Wrestling match clearly over, Peter was more than happy to note that his feline companion had no qualms about settling down for a nap. He reached up to muffle a would-be yawn with his arm and allowed his body to stretch out. The recent clawing notwithstanding, the boy really was quite sore. Arms and legs felt like lead and not even the promise of an entertaining faux battle was enough to rouse him. Fingers slowed to rake through fur at the panther's neck in reassuring circles. "I know I promised you a game, but lets sleep for a little while alright? Then we can go explore. We can play chase...it will be harder now because I'll have to run, but it will still be fun. I used to be able to fly you know." Peter's voice had softened to a hazy lull, sleepy at the edges but still bragging in intent.
---
I know, Jas. thought, eyes half-lidding as he rested his chin on Peter's chest. The petting against his neck was incredibly relaxing, and sleep-- sleep sounded nice. He hadn't been sleeping well at all for the passed week or so, and it was starting to catch up, he found. Of course, the gentle pull of fingers through his fur wasn't helping the matter at all. Still, he had enough presence of mind to keep his ears pricked to the boy, listening intently.
---
"I'll be able to again soon too, just you wait-" he continued, pausing only to let another yawn escape. "I have to. I don't want James and Wendy to know." Shoulders shifted once more and Peter's head turned to the side, cheek brushing against soft blankets as he let his own eyes close. "Hook already knows and that..." The boy trailed off as he reached up to run a hand though his own hair and when he spoke again, sleep had softened his words. "I don't want him thinking that I'm...deficient. I couldn't bear it."
---
It took him a moment to realize exactly what Peter said, and when he did he lifted his head just a little with surprise and soft confusion. Deficient? What in the blazes was that supposed to mean? And since when was Pan concerned about that? Jas shifted just a little closer and pushed his snout up under the boy's chin, once, before settling against his side. Deficient. There was nothing deficient about him, even if he couldn't fly-- and that was, really, a minor inconvenience. A small problem that could-- would be solved.
With a soft huff, the panther turned his head, soft cheek pressing against the centre of Peter's chest. Well, whoever had put the thought in his head, they were wrong. Pan was a lot of things-- annoying, naive, cocky, a troublemaker-- but deficient wasn't one of them. Not that Jas ever planned to tell him that. But still.
--
Had he been a bit closer to awake than sleep, the forever boy might have smiled at the gesture. In it's own way, the contact was comforting, though Peter had all but made a conscious decision to avoid such things altogether- from people anyway. Beyond that- thought was hazy at best, and the boy's breathed slowed. "You...smell like the ocean..."
As much of a goodnight as he could hope to offer.
--
Jas watched him through slitted eyes a moment longer after he murmured the vague 'goodnight', thinking on what the wild child had said. Then, mentally shaking himself, the pirate-turned-feline shoved the contemplations aside. Not today, he thought. Today was a time-out, and he planned to keep it that way. And a nap didn't sound like a such a bad idea. So, finally succumbing, he closed his eyes, still purring softly, and relaxed against the boy, focusing on the smell of summer sun and spring grass and the feel of fingers in his fur.