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THREE SHADOWS SLUNK through the woods. One had a gun clutched in his prosthetic hand, and whispered into a walkie-talkie held tight in the other. The second shadow tiptoed around leaves and twigs, stepping so lightly and deftly he appeared to be hovering millimeters above the ground. He had his index finger around a trigger and a maniacal glint in his eyes.
The third had a ripped hoodie, blonde curls, and a gash dripping blood down her left wrist.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are, Captain." A singsong voice broke the eerie quiet of the forest. The sheriff whirled around, both hands on his gun.
"Mr. Pan," Sherriff Jones began calmly, "we have reasons to believe you are running a drug business, and are using underage children to sell said drugs. Now, it would make both of our lives much easier if you'd willingly come with me to the station."
The sharp snap of a twig. Jones turned around again, aiming into the darkness. "I don't want to shoot you, Peter."
"That makes one of us."
CRACK!
The gunshot reverberated through the woods, Hook's scream of pain following. He doubled over and clamped his hand over the bullet hole in his shoulder.
"Peter!" A figure darted out from behind a tree, intercepting the boy as he aimed at Hook again. Belle's breaths came heavy, and one hand was wrapped around the jagged cut on her wrist. 'Peter, stop,' she panted, 'don't do this. You'll regret it, please calm down—'
"It's ending. Tonight," Peter growled, pushing at the blonde girl, but she was stronger than she looked. She shoved the both of them behind a tree, out of sights of the injured Captain Hook.
"It's already over," Belle hissed. Her blue eyes were fierce and piercing and drilled into Peter's. "It ended when you shot a fucking police officer. It's over. For you, me, Tiger, and hell, if Wendy gets arrested because of this shit, it's your fault."
Peter tensed then, breaking Belle's stare and looking around the woods. "Where is she?"
"Wendy?" Belle shrugged. "I don't know— Peter!" She grabbed his wrist as he tried to turn away. "We have bigger things to deal with now than your fucking one-night-stand, okay?"
"I have to find her," Peter murmured. He yanked his wrist away from Belle's grip and sprinted away from her, leaving her to deal with the wounded officer.
Peter found his way to the edge of the woods and spied Hook's car standing there. Hook's partner Smee was leaning against it, and his eyes widened when he saw Peter barreling towards him.
"Help!—" the deputy began, but was shoved away by Peter.
"Sod off, you overgrown child," the boy spat as he jerked oped the car door and slid inside. He'd only driven a car once before, but he remembered the gas and the brakes. He stepped on the first pedal and off he went. Rain spattered his windshield, and obscured his vision, but he floored the gas pedal nonetheless.
Peter sped up and down the streets of London, calling for Wendy but finding nothing. He eventually ended up at the river, his chest tight as he peered down the street for a glimpse of his lost brunette. Nothing.
He ran his hands through his hair and looked up at the sky, praying to anyone or anything up there that he'd find her. The stars blinked coldly at him, offering him nothing but silence. Peter's gaze went from the twinkling stars to the lights on the bridge... and then something caught his eye.
A lone figure, standing on the edge of the Tower Bridge.
It was her.
Peter threw open the car door and ran towards the bridge, past the driving cars, and into the building with the staircase that lead to the topmost layer. He sprinted up the ancient staircase, his heart about to explode out of his chest as he cleared the last few steps. When he came out on the upper layer of the Tower Bridge, rain whipped him in the face and eyes. He could hardly see a two meters in front of him. Then, a figure. He could see her balanced on the edge of the guard rail.
"Wendy!" he yelled, his voice coming out hoarse and strangled. It had given up sometime in the past hour, when he had been screaming for her out of the window of the stolen police car. The brunette girl did not respond, simply continued staring out into the night sky. She didn't seem to notice the rain, nor the height at which she stood, how easily she could topple over and into the river she'd go.
Peter edged closer, step-by-step, so as not to scare Wendy. He could hear police sirens wailing in the distance, over the roar of the pouring rain.
"Wendy, please," he said. He was almost close enough to touch her now. "Come down. I'll take you home, I promise."
The girl did not turn her head as she said, "it's beautiful, Peter. The stars. I can touch them." She reached out to them, and Peter stepped a little closer.
"Wendy, please come down," Peter whispered. He shoved the rain-slick hair out of his face, desperate to keep Wendy in his sights. "The pixie dust is messing with you. Just come down, we'll figure this out. Okay?"
"I'm gonna fly there," said Wendy, pointing to the brightest star. The wind made her sway back and forth, back and forth, but she had climbed up too high on the rail for Peter to grab her.
"Wendy, you're— you're gonna fall, hold on—"
Any last shreds of Peter's composure were being washed away by the thunderous downpour. A sob caught in his throat, and he tried hooking his foot into one of the slats of the guard rail to climb up.
But, he found no purchase, and the rain-slick metal only caused him to slide down again and again.
The sirens grew louder still. Peter ran to the other end of the bridge, seeing the red-blue-white lights cutting through the mist of the rain.
"Help!" he shouted, waving his arms in hopes of one of the officers catching sight of him. "Help me, goddamnit— I'm up here!" Peter saw one or two policemen get out of their cars, and he paced back to where Wendy was balancing on the edge of the bridge.
"It's okay, Peter," the girl said. Her voice was so soft that Peter had to strain to hear her.
"No, Wendy, it's not—" another strangled sob cut off the boy's words and he dug his nails into his palms, wishing and wishing and wishing that he had never gotten this poor girl involved with his life. He tried one last time to climb the rail, and this time, his foot didn't slide off.
His breath was coming out in bursts as he hauled himself up. "Wendy, just— just hold on, okay? Stay, stay there—"
Peter saw a serene smile form on Wendy's lips. She turned her head to look at him, and her eyes were blank and glassy. "It's okay, Peter Pan," she repeated, and breathed in deeply as she glanced at her North star.
"I can fly."
"NO!—" Peter, using all the strength he had left, lunged up and towards Wendy,
