My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

36. The Devil Bleeds

The Second Star ploughed through the waves – its sails filled by a strong wind. Scuttle was clinging to the side, his knuckles bone white as he gawped at the sight of their ship having apparently come to life. His eyes followed the ships wheel that was turning unsupervised– altering their course.

"Is it ghosts, captain?" He murmured fearfully. He glanced around at the dead crew men still scattered on deck. Were their spirits manning the ship for them? He gulped nervously.

"Captain, where are we headed?" Flit called up to him. Hook's expression was murderous. With deadly purpose, he unsheathed his sword from its scabbard – his dark gaze fixed on the horizon.

"The devil had blood in his veins. And I will see that blood - when I run him through."

Scuttle wiped his sweaty brow nervously.

"Right."

Flit turned to the remaining crew.

"Ready the cannons."

                       A dozen Lost Boys rejoiced – sweat streaming down their faces and blood weeping from their hands and down their shovels.

"Help me up." Pan ordered. Dirt darkened his skin and grazes cut across his sharp cheekbones and chin. The Lost Boys pulled together, heaving Pan out of the deep hole.

Pan breathed a sigh of relief when his feet touched solid ground once more.

"What about the tribute, father?" A boy questioned, seeing that they were about to leave.  

"Let it stay buried for now, it's not going anywhere." Pan's voice was curt. He didn't care about gold just then. 

A Lost Boy frowned, seeing the rocks and debris Pan had climbed to reach the opening and daylight.

"Father?" He asked innocently. "Why didn't you fly?"

Pan didn't reply. He stretched his aching arms and legs – his expression unreadable.

"We need to get back to the ship."

               The sun dipped beneath the sea – plunging them into twilight. A cold wind howled through the air and The Cleverness creaked and groaned.

"Light the lanterns." Slightly commanded. Lost Boys scampered diligently about and the ship was soon bathed in a warm orange glow.

The child-slaves had been sent down into the brig – leaving space on deck. Slightly approached Nibs, who was sat cross-legged, his back against the mast, and Wendy's head cradled in his lap.

"We should take her below and put her in father's bed." Slightly suggested.

"No," Wendy countered – her voice weak. "I want... to see the stars."

She stared blearily past their peering faces – her gaze on the twinkling night sky. Blood stained her teeth and was smeared across her lips and chin. Slightly reached down and gently wiped her mouth with his sleeve. He looked up at Nibs with tears in his eyes.

"What are we going to tell father?" He whispered. 

"A ship – Slightly there's a ship!" Called a voice from the crow's nest. "Its not flying our colours."