Peter and the Shame of the Embrace

Chapter 4 - Morning

The jungle swirled a brilliant green as Peter bolted down the dusty path cut into it. He needed to hurry as fast has he could, otherwise Shining Pearl would catch up to him. In his right hand he clutched the prize: a porcelain teacup, the handle now slippery from his sweaty grip. Balancing it carefully so that its precious contents wouldn't spill, Peter scanned the woods as he ran. There – a flash of skin behind the dense canopy. Peter waded through the thick greenery, until he reached his mate.

Ted was dressed in St. Norbert's crisp uniform: a starched white shirt and pressed black trousers. A matching top hat sat precariously on his head. He must have borrowed it from the Queen. His round face beamed as Peter stepped into the clearing.

"Sugar?" Ted offered. Peter readily accepted a lump, stirring it into the tea with the silver fork Ted offered. Peter would have preferred a spoon, but he knew he shouldn't be so picky in this economy.

"Cream is next. I shouldn't tell you, but you'll find it at home." Peter nodded, grateful for Ted's tip. Peter was planning to see if the pirates had the cream, which would have sent him in the wrong direction. As was customary, Peter shook Ted's hand, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then leapt over the canyon that had formed between him and the island path while his back was turned. Behind him, Peter thought he could hear someone.

The hideout was still covered with its typical tree stump, which had caught fire, and there were decorative chairs around it. Leonard Aster was sharing a drink with Captain Hook and Fighting Prawn, all in top hats similar to Ted's. Peter was glad to see everyone getting along.

James was on the far side of the clearing, back turned to Peter and the adults. In his hands Peter was sure was the cream, which would finish Peter's cup. As Peter stepped forward, the conversation that the men were having faded. Peter was confused. Was James mad at him?

"James?" Peter rested his free hand on his friend's shoulder. He can't take the cream unless James offered it to him, and he didn't want Pearl to win.

The air grew cold. James whipped around, stared at Peter vacantly. Peter lowered his eyes to the ground, horrified. James's shadow wasn't there.

Peter dropped his hand from Ombra's shoulder, stepping back slowly. He turned to Mr. Aster – he would know what to do. The three men stared at him, drinks empty, with the same blank expression.

They advanced. Peter knew he should fly or scream or do something, but he couldn't do anything but slowly back away from James.

An agonizingly sharp pain ripped through Peter's body and blood started pouring out of his shoulder, seeping into the front of his shirt. His thigh started spurting blood and murky poison, and Peter was sure that if Ombra didn't kill him, his wounds surely would.

The pain became too much, and Peter sank to his knees, dropping his teacup. It shattered, tea and sugar spattering the trunk in front of him.

Open the trunk. Open the trunk. Peter knew he must do it, but the pain from his shoulder was so bad, he couldn't move his arm. James was practically on top of him now, dead eyes barreling down upon him.

Open the trunk. Peter knew that's what he must do for it all to end, but he couldn't... James reached out his hand, extending a long finger to touch Peter's forehead.

***

"Peter shut it!" Tootles's arm slapped Peter across his chest, and Peter's nightmare ended. Peter was shaking and sweating, but murky dawn filtered through the holes in the hideout's tree stump seal, which was fortunately not on fire. Peter sat up and tried to catch his breath. Finally, at the behest of the twins, who were using Peter's right arm as a pillow, he detached himself  from the people pile and got started on the day.