Four broken lives. Two different countries. One king. Evil everywhere. The sequel to Taking Fantasia, and the return of Ariel Triton, Peter Pan, Wendy Darling, and Jim Hawkins...Fantasian Guardians, cursed to an eternity apart. A Disney/ Non Disney...
Wendy tried not to fall asleep. But as the minutes ticked by without an appearance from Jim, she slowly...started...drifing...
"Ouch."
Something shoved her shoulder. The shove was accompanied by an unhappy memory.
"Oh dear." Wendy switched the bedside lamp. The light spread, revealing Peter's shadow.
The shadow was grumpy. The shadow was jealous. And the shadow felt terribly neglected.
"I'm sorry." Wendy apologized. Hanging upside-down, she followed the shadow under the bed. "I didn't mean to ignore you downstairs. I know it's just been you and me for a while. But they are my family. And I've missed them so. Didn't you have fun?"
The shadow crossed it's arms. No.
Wendy tilted. Her curls grazed the floor.
"Shadow. Please don't be cross."
The shadow sulked. It kicked the mattress angrily. Wendy jounced as it kicked again.
"Ohh. Come on now." Playfully Wendy reached under the bed. "Is someone a little fussy?"
The shadow made goalposts. No.Someone was BIG fussy.
"Is there anything I can do?"
The shadow pointed down. Down. Down. Down. The Underworld.
Wendy's cheerfulness died.
"Oh. Well. Don't worry." She eased into bed. "I'm sure they'll send us back to the Underworld." She sighed unhappily at the ceiling. "Again."
The shadow appeared over her head. Gleefully it pointed to itself and then to Wendy.
"Yes." Wendy tried to smile. "Just you and me."
The shadow somersaulted. Merrily it sailed back under the bed.
It kicked the mattress. Goodnight.
Wendy thumped a foot in return. "Goodnight."
And Wendy was sure it was going to be a 'goodnight.' Her brothers were healthy, her belly was full of pizza, and her thoughts were outrageously happy. Indisputably - there would be no nightmares tonight.
Moreover, as Wendy ebbed into dreamland (you know, that place between sleep and awake) she heard a voice. The voice blurred in and out like a poorly tuned radio - but it was very familiar.
"Is...is that her?"
"Yes. Oh no honey, don't go in. Let her sleep. She looked so tired when she came. Exhausted. Something about nightmares. No, no don't go in - "
Footsteps. They stopped at the edge of her bed.
"Wow. Six years. I can't believe it."
Silence. A hand touched her bow.
"I missed her."
Again silence.
Then: "Come on Jim. You can see her in the morning."
"Kay. Okay. Just-"
A swift kiss on her head. Then the voices were gone.
Wendy smiled in her sleep. Jim. Jim was home. She dropped confidently into her dreams. Go ahead nightmares. Do your worst.
It was a dangerous challenge.
Because her nightmares did more than their worst
They did much, much worse.
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She was in the Underworld. Chasing nightmares. There were hundreds of them, thousands. Children were crying so hard she could hear them underground. They were afraid. Afraid of the shadows. Afraid of the nightmares. Afraid of the dark.
Corkscrew in one hand and pixie dust in the other, she drilled under beds. Desperately she cranked, faster and faster until her shoulder ached and her fingers hurt. She looked under her arm. The bedrock was glutted with holes.
Suddenly nightmares plunged through the holes. They dripped like blood, smeared like smoke, and splashed into her face. They crawled into her mouth, oozed into her nose, and pried open her brain.
She fell. She fell and someone caught her. A man with sucked-in eye sockets and a long, sickled hook.
Captain Hook.
The pirate grinned. Then, he punched the hook through her stomach. Her insides popped as the hook ripped up her chest and into her mouth.
She screamed. And as she screamed she felt the metal gouging her tongue and palate- stabbing and stabbing and bleeding and bleeding and screaming and screaming -
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Wendy screamed, chest burning with the strain.
"STOP!STOP!STOP!STOP!"
"Wen!"
Someone grabbed her, shook her shoulders.
"Wen wake up!"
She fought.
"STOP! STO -"
"Wen wake up, it's a dream! Wen wake -"
"DON'T! STOP! STOP!"
"Wendy! It's me! Wen - Wen - Wen - "
"Sto - st-----Jim?"
Her head was throbbing, her throat was stinging, and her lungs were raw and red from screaming. She was sobbing, gasping; she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see.
Two hands cupped her cheeks. They were cool and steady.
"Wen. It's me."
Blindly Wendy stared. Then she cried into Jim's arms.
Jim held her. Calmly, he rocked.
"I've got you. I've got you." He squeezed, making sure she knew. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."
Deftly, Jim adjusted a pillow. Cradling Wendy against him, he lay down. "I'll stay right here."
