** When a wish brings devastating consequences, Pan must join forces with a fallen star to stop the walking dead before Neverland sinks into eternal darkness. **
"We can sail away tonight on a sea of pure moonlight
We can navigate the stars to b...
He had allowed himself to be provoked and blindly lunged at Hook in blinding adventurousness. Oh - what a fight it had been! The saber of the stockfish against his dagger, a symphony of thunderous clang, and the song of blades. It could have been an incredible story. In the rush of battle, he almost didn't hear the telltale splash. When the damned stockfish suddenly laughed triumphantly, even as he drove the dagger into his black heart, and the body of his mortal enemy FINALLY plunged into the fanged mouth of the massive Neverland crocodile... Peter knew at once that something horrible had happened.
This realization, however, came too late, and Peter would never forget the sight. The way the blades slid through the necks of his boys, the screams, the gurgles, and their... faces. They haunted him even into his dreams. The accusations, the guilt, the fear. He should have saved them all... instead, Hook's laughter echoed in his thoughts. Hook's prank had nearly cost him his own life, so distracted and frozen had he been when the blow of realization hit him. In the churning waters, all he saw was blood, snapping massive jaws, scales, and... scraps of the blue dress Wendy had been wearing. A top hat floated in the waves as if waving innocently to him, and Michael's teddy bear had long since sunk into the black depths.
Peter had shouted and roared, had dived down, and, despite the dizziness, had hardly noticed the stabbing pain at his side as he flew over the waves. But there was only the inky black waters and the beasts that also snapped at him.
Peter had never felt this way before, and never had such a thing happened. He was the hero! Blinded by anger and vengeance, he had charged at the filthy pirates like a bull, overwhelmed by the red of the blood of his loss. He had been so focused on getting revenge on Hook that he had forgotten the most important thing - the safety of those he loved. Even now, his memory was fragmentary... but he continued to feel the warm blood running over his fingers. How it splashed in his face and on his clothes, and the screams of the damned pirates as he threw them over the railing into the waters where they had sunk their victims moments before.
At some point, silence fell on the Jolly Roger. She swayed in the waves, ropes groaned, and the wood groaned as the ship groaned for the carnage that had occurred here. But in the end, it had all been for nothing. The children were gone, and Peter had nothing but an empty victory. He had defeated Hook, but at what cost?
For the first time in his life - at least that he could remember - Peter felt a profound... guilt as if Hook's blade had torn a wound in his flesh and a hole in his previously invulnerable soul. Remorse ate icy as winter frost through his veins and mind, making him sluggish and heavy. He had lost those he loved and felt that some of him had died with them.
The lost boy groaned at the memory of it and buried his face in his hands. No one had been here to see the tears of the failed hero... no one but Tinkerbell. The little fairy's light was dull, exhausted, and drawn by the pity she felt for Peter, for there was no room in her little body for more than one feeling. Helplessly she had to watch, could do nothing...
Suddenly the little creature blinked. The thought came abruptly, and the little wings stretched. The jingling and ringing grew louder, and fine dust with a golden sheen trickled onto Peter's dirty hair, leaving the glittering glow as she circled him.
"Get out of here, Tink..." grumbled the boy, curled up in a ball in the hammock. He didn't feel like playing. What good were all the adventures if he couldn't tell anyone? If no one laughed at his jokes and pranks? He remembered the days when Neverland was a place of magic and wonder—the days when he was the fearless leader of the lost boys and the protector of the innocent. But now, it all seemed like a distant dream. He lay there in silence, surrounded by the beauty of Neverland but unable to find comfort in it. He was consumed with guilt and regret, and Peter wondered if he could ever forgive himself for what had happened.
But the little fairy didn't give up, landing on his cheek and tugging at one of the blond strands of hair.
Peter emitted a growl, deep and feral, reminiscent of a wounded animal baring its teeth in warning.
"TINK!" he hissed irritably as the excited words reached his mind between the wild sounds of the fairy. Slowly, they seeped through the stuck thoughts like water that first had to sink through countless grains of sand. The boy's brow furrowed in similar waves, his green eyes illuminated by the fairy's light, shining unnaturally bright even in the darkness.
"What are you talking about... slow down!" he urged the little fairy, even reaching out to help her calm down and stop darting back and forth like a wild firefly.
Tink fluttered her wings wildly, freed herself from his grasp, and pranced around his head and fingers. The pleasing sound surrounding them melted into delicate tones, but like polished glass, it became clearer and more insistent.
Peter's eyes widened at what Tink was telling him, and his countenance also brightened. The little fairy was right! IF anyone knew a solution... it was the fairies! The lips that had just been hard pulled apart, daring to show the first hint of a grin in days.
"Tink! THAT'S it!" he groaned, and the hammock rustled. Leaves and feathers tumbled into the depths as Pan leaped from the tightly woven net and caught in midair as if the thoughts of that hope held him by invisible strings.
"Quick! Take me to Queen Titania!"
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