Set Your Sails...to Atlantis || Peter Pan, OUAT

Chapter Seven - Unexpected Allies

~ Davina

"Well, what's it going to be? Should I continue swinging from my ship in this lifeboat or should one of us come aboard?" The man says.

Peter pulls at my shoulder, turning me away from him. "I know what you're thinking. Don't."

"I have to. Besides, I think the Boys should return to Neverland."

"What?"

"We have a perfect opportunity for the Boys to use the last magic bean and go home. Magic brought us here, and it was a lot. Even if we're in a Land Without Magic, there should be enough of a magic print left behind to send them, and the ship, back."

"Why?"

"It was a passing thought, but my gut is telling me it's the right thing to do. There's something, or someone, else at play here. The rules have changed, and we left the island unprotected," I urge, my voice dropping an octave.

Understanding crosses Peter's face. The idea of his home being under threat sinks in. He nods, releases my shoulder.

I turn to the man, "Permission to come aboard?" I call out.

"Permission granted," he responds.

The lifeboat drops lower, but the space between the ships is too vast for me to simply jump across. I climb up the rigging, taking hold of one of the ropes, and jump, swinging in the opposite direction and as it soars over the edge of our ship and the sheer drop to the ocean below, I use the momentum to land in the lifeboat across from the man. The boat rocks, and he has to steady himself. Once I've gained my footing, I sit myself on the plank of wood across from the man, steeling my gaze as I lock eye contact with him.

"Impressive. But I feel what you have to say will be more so," he comments, and then calls up to his crew.

The boat ascends, slowly, and I watch as Peter gathers the Boys, checking over them and explaining the plan. Just as we reach the top, I see the iridescent glint of a magic bean between his fingers. As I return my focus to the matter at hand, I see a rather...eclectic crew waiting for us on the deck. A tall, blonde woman with sharp features. A shorter girl, with black hair and olive skin, dressed in stained overalls. A tall, broad man with a stethoscope around his neck, a minuscule and rotund man with a pair of goggles strapped to his face, a skinny man with cropped black hair and a matchstick between his lips, an older woman with perfectly coiffed hair and bright red lipstick, a scrappy small man with trousers too big for his frame, and finally, a scrawny man with glasses almost bigger than his head and floppy brown hair.

"Commander," the blonde greets.

"Lieutenant, we have some...interesting company."

"I see. Good thing too, Thatch here hasn't shut up since you got in the lifeboat," she replies.

"What is it now, Thatch?"

"Well, Sir, Packard noticed an anomaly on the radar and it's got to be connected to these people and how close we're getting to At-" the scrawny bespectacled man begins enthusiastically.

"Shut it, Thatch. We'll see what she has to say and then we can discuss your theories," the man, the Commander, interrupts.

He was definitely about to say Atlantis.

"What's your name?" The Lieutenant asks, jutting her chin at me as her eyes scan over my clothing.

"You first."

"Lieutenant Helga Sinclair, Commander Lyle Rourke. That's all you need to know for now," the Commander says pointing at the blonde and then himself respectively.