Captain's Captive

Den of the Lost

It seemed like hours before she finally stumbled into the opening of a hidden cave, almost completely obscured by dense brush and tangled vines. Had it not been for Peter leading her, she never would have spotted it. "Peter, it's dark. I can't see." She called hesitantly to him as she felt her way along the cold damp walls. She was answered by an exasperated huff as he roughly seized her hand and dragged her forward with him, stubbing her bare toes on loose rocks along the way.

At last a glow of light flickered faintly ahead and the tunnel opened into a huge cavern, glittering with gems buried deep within the stalactites that hung above. They reflected the light of the torches that had been lit and scattered around the makeshift camp, giving it all an eerie appearance as he shoved her forward.

Small heads began to poke curiously out of tents and around patchy woodland walls, strung together with vine and limbs, and Wendy couldn't help but notice how young they all were. She had imagined the Lost Boys from her stories to be young teenagers full of adventure and spirit, but these boys were barely more than Michael's age, save a few burlier youth who lingered in the distance and eyed her warily.

"Boys, this is Wendy. She is going to be your new mother." Peter proclaimed proudly, as if he had caught some sort of prized animal and brought it home to amuse them.

"We don't need a mother." One of the teenagers in the back piped up, his hand resting on the sword at his side. "Send her to the Codfish." He added, drawing a chuckle from his companions.

"She stays." Peter's voice took on a dangerous edge, and the laughter quickly ceased. There was no more argument on the matter, but the older boys still made no move to approach.

A small hand grasped the edge of her nightgown, tugging gently and she turned to find a sweet round face and dark chocolate eyes staring up at her from beneath a mop of unruly hair.

"Are we going home, mother?" The timid little voice questioned, tearing at her heartstrings.

Before she could answer, Peter shoved the boy away. "Neverland is your home! Get to bed! All of you!" He barked furiously, whirling around to face Wendy. "You, go get more firewood. Jax, go with her." And with that he flew over to where the rest of the older boys stood, their voices not reaching her ears.

Jax, the teen who had voiced his dislike of her immediately, stepped forward with a deep frown but didn't argue his orders. Seizing her shoulders, he shoved her forward and lifted one of the torches to light their way.

Wendy eyed him carefully as they walked, his broad shoulders barely covered by patches of furs that had been stitched together. He wore a pair of tattered brown breeches, the same as many of the older boys, but his clean-shaven head, toffee-colored skin, and mossy green eyes set him apart from the others.

The trek through the darkness of the forest was a silent one, until at last Wendy spoke. "You seem much older than Peter, but you follow him. Why?" Her curiosity was genuine, though she also hoped that a conversation might diffuse some of the tension that hovered between them.

"Pan rules Neverland. Only the stupid oppose him...and they don't live very long." He grunted dismissively, casting his gaze into the darkness around him.

"You mean...he kills them?" Her mind flashed back to the young boy who had approached her in the cavern and a look of horror spread across her face.

Jax only nodded, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Nobody leaves Neverland. " he reiterated Pan's words, his tone making it clear that the conversation no longer interested him.

Again the thought arose in her mind that this was most definitely not the Neverland of her childhood stories. This was someplace far more dark and sinister, and Peter Pan was certainly no hero.

As she gathered twigs from the underbrush beneath her feet, another question formed in her mind. "Why did Peter bring me here?"

A smirk crossed Jax's face at her question, and his answer was almost a sneer. "Your stories. He thinks if you tell them to the kiddies, they'll behave better. Be less trouble." He replied with an amused grunt, shaking his head.

"I very much doubt that. You can't make a villian into a hero." Wendy replied curtly, picking up a larger branch.

Jax chuckled at her reply. "Isn't that what you've been doing?" He asked with a smirk.

His words stopped her in her tracks. He was right. The way Michael and John carried on about Peter Pan and his adventures, they practically worshipped him. Would the same happen to the poor young boys back at the camp? Would they be so easily fooled into believing him to be some sort of hero, despite his cruelty? The thought turned her stomach. Still, if she refused, what would happen to them then? That thought troubled her even more so.

"Well, in my stories, good always defeats evil." She said at last, resolve echoing in her words as she lifted the bundle of wood into her arms and turned back the way they had come.

"You think you can defeat Pan?" Jax seemed genuinely amused at the thought, not bothering to hide his doubt as he rolled his green eyes.

"Maybe not me, but someone. There is always a light in the darkness."

"Good luck finding it." He snorted, knocking into her shoulder roughly as he brushed past her, sending her bundle of firewood tumbling to the ground once more.

Wendy glared up at him through a curtain of blonde curls as she stooped to pick up the wood. "Well, I certainly won't expect it from you." She sniffed, turning her nose up as she stepped beyond him to the entrance of the cave.

"At least you're a fast learner."