Author's Notes: I've said it all before, but I'll do it again so I don't get any flames or rude complaints - I do not own any of the Peter Pan characters, but this storyline is my own, so please read and I truly hope you enjoy it. It's an experiment I've been thinking of for months now but never actually pursued; I cross my fingers that it works. Let me know what you think. It is a Oneshot, but of course if I get a reasonable amount of readers who request for me to continue then I will gladly do so for them. Thank you for checking this out :)

This is a time when justice is scarcely found

This is a time when justice is scarcely found. When tyrants are appointed as rulers, hungry for nothing but dominance and power, and when the skies are more than often grey with the tears that yet to fall from the heavens. The Angels watch as our world falls deeper into an era of darkness. Is there no one who can stand up before the shadows and bring is new light?

When a new baby laughs for the first time a new fairy is born. And as there are always new babies, there are always new fairies.

The only remaining flicker of faith that soars over towns, lands, cities and countries, is the legend of the fairies. They live. They share affection and beauty and fill our people's hearts with the dream and idea that one day, some day, our world will be a better place as it once was, when the fairies lived in masses, in dynasties, in families. But lately... with each session of unforgiving rain that falls, our fairies seem to disappear further into the legend we all fear they will be.

Stay with us, fairies.

Come back.

We need you.

All we need is trust and a little bit of pixie dust.

Though many people are beginning find it an exhausting task to find either of these, now. Now, in the year 18028, we find ourselves wondering what we will become.

o-0-o

His left foot took its hurried turn in pounding down into the muddy earth; murky, brown water splashed up his black trousers and added to the drench. He moved swiftly, following his companion - the wind. In its whisper, they say, if your heart holds enough passion and wish you can hear the melody of the distant fairies who sing of deliverance. This cunning ghost follows their chanting and races across the soaking land without any hesitation. He pants beneath his mop of auburn hair which is, usually, erect and rather spiky when dry, and his hazel eyes squint protectively just above the rim of the cloth tied around his mouth. He runs down the hillside and rounds according to the curve in the passage that leads him through the valley. The dry valley which has turned to mush and pools of dark rain instead of maintaining its dry, desert-like appearance. There was nothing here for anyone.

Except this stranger.

His feet pounded, fists swayed, muscles intensified as the ground altered in angles, and he was soon pushing himself up another slanted slope. When he reached the top, he ducked to his knees for just a moment to allow his cautious, wary eyes to scan the landscape. There it was. Up ahead. That black, cold construction just a few metres further up the next hillside - at the top, perched solidly upon the top of the Desert Plain's Peak, sat the Vessel. Just that name sent tremors of icy fear across any helpless person's skin. Anyone would turn and run for their life at the sight of this building - but this man was on a mission. He wasn't running anywhere, or for anyone's life.

The man slid his hand into the leather pocket of his wet jacket and brought out a palm-sized, silver, iron ball. It was a gadget of vast technology, so vast, that when he tapped his finger tip upon the top of the sphere, it came to life by humming and producing a red dot of light on the other side.

"Connect to DT20." The man ordered, and the sphere buzzed for a moment.

"DT20 here - hit me, Pan." Another male spoke out through the sphere.

The crouched stranger, known as Pan, nodded, "I'm at the peak. Make sure the others are in position - follow my lead closely, but stay low."

"Copy that." His partner professionally confirmed.

Instead of turning the sphere off, he muttered 'flight mode', and threw the gadget into the air where it rotated speedily, before halting sharply and hovering above his head against the laws of gravity. Pan adjusted the cloth against his mouth to be more comfortable, then took flight again. His Sphere followed flawlessly behind him. Pan sprinted up the hill without even slipping or sliding once in the greasy mud. When he reached the iron wall of the Vessel - the Vessel, for it stood in the shape of a ship, so grand and beautiful; the complete opposite to everything about this building - Pan threw himself against it and flattened himself. Looking left and right, there was nothing but miles of dead, wet land and grey skies. Pan followed along the wall until he came to a waterfall of rushing water which only increased the flooding of these lands; the water flowed from a pipe, a huge tunnel, which obviously led deep into the core of the Vessel.

The man jumped up artfully and stood tall. The water rushed against him, but he was one step ahead, and kept to the side to avoid the opposing current. It was dark, dingy, and smelt of rust.

"Light." He breathed aloud.

His loyal Sphere that was following in the air behind him exploded with a pale, pink light that lit up the tunnel ahead. It went on so far that Pan couldn't see further than 20 feet before him. So he pushed on. Forcing his shins against the cold, challenging flow of water and trying to ignore the filth along the crusty walls. He didn't want to think about what had been through here...

Finally, after what had seemed the best part of half an hour of determined striding, Pan came to a fork in the tunnel. Left, or right - or up. Pan stepped into the middle of all three and tilted his head back to gaze up at where the pale, white light came from. Pan knew his decision.

Taking his Sphere, he clicked its body into two directions and then pushed up, as to unlock it, and its circular 3D form transformed into two parts with a thin metal bar in the middle. Pan pressed the switch, and a hooked arrow suddenly burst upwards from inside the gadget and sped up the tunnel opening until it pierced through the next metal wall it found and hooked in place. Pan fixed the second part of the Sphere in his palms and squeezed; his feet left the floor so fast he felt his stomach drop, just as it did every time. He loved this feeling - as though he was flying. Perhaps Pan only took this route because he knew he would have to use the safety wire? His love for flying wasn't just a coincidence - he was meant to take this tunnel. His instincts said so.

Pan flew out of the opening and performed a number of spins and flips in the air which enabled him to land on both feet in a stable crouch. His cape settled down his back, and he brushed back the wet hair from his nose as he stood up, retracting the wire, and turning his Sphere back into its original form. It hovered once again over his shoulder like a loyal puppy.

Peter found himself in one of the experiment rooms. White walls, silver operating table, cabinets of tools and white lights lining the ceiling. It was so bright. Pan didn't waste any time in observing the room; he pointed to the door and let his Sphere do the rest of the work. Using its pink laser, it widened into a V shape and scrolled up and down the door and its wall to detect any movement on the other side. Nothing.

Pan nodded, more to himself than his gadget, and approached the door hurriedly. He waved his hand over the motion-detector and the door slid open to the right with a hissing sound - the release of pressurised energy heat. Pan leant forwards and carefully looked left and right down the hall; it was still clear. His feet danced the steps he had taught himself through experience, how to be silent but quick, light and noiseless. He came to a corner and pushed his back against the wall, with his head to the right, so that he could observe the small map that was engraved into the white iron so finely. He couldn't believe his luck; he was on the level he needed to be on.

But voices - oh no!

Pan whipped his head round and spotted the shadows of three, maybe four, people coming closer around the far end of the corridor where the next turning existed. Did he have time?...

The 4 Scientists in their long, white jackets came round the corner and looked up ahead- to see the empty hall. They walked down, taking their time, quietening their chit-chatter as they drew closer to their strict destination. Pan's muscles trembled in his legs, stomach and arms, as he held himself stiff against the ceiling by pressing his palms and feet to the edges of the frame. His face quivered and a rain-drop fell from the end of his fringe. It plummeted downwards towards the head of one of the workers; Pan held his breath... but the droplet missed, by not even an inch, and splattered onto the ground.

Sighing in deep relief, Pan dropped to the floor with the grace of a cat and landed in another of his mastered crouches. No more playing around. He knew where he needed to go, and although that close risk was nerve-wrecking and careless, it had aided him in direction. While holding himself in position he had spotted the grid to the vent-tunnels on the wall opposite, so by using the laser installed into his magnificent Sphere, he was able to burn away the screws, pull of the lid, and scramble up into the squared tunnels and begin crawling his way across. Onwards, until the next left, then right, then straight on until the third grid with venting flaps went underneath him; the first two he passed, he saw empty rooms, but the third...

"Let go of me! No, no!!" A girl yelled madly; her screaming voice held furious anger, but supported by immense fear.

Pan shifted himself somewhat until he was able to see down into the room through the slits in the vent. It was lit up with white and pale-blue lights all around upon the walls, and to the top of the room there was a long chair that changed positions so the person sitting within it could be upright or laying flat. And it was being prepared for one prisoner in particular - the helpless teenage girl that was wriggling, kicking and struggling desperately within the hands of three scientists. And he stood at a distance. Watching the cruel situation. A smug smirk playing in the corner of his mouth.

"Tie her up, already," The notorious, wicked Professor Baldolph Hook snickered.

"Wendy!"

"Leave her alone!" Two boys yelled in panic - terrified.

Pan tore his eyes away from the brown-haired girl and spotted two younger boys in a cage that was a little short for them both so they were having to kneel. One was around six, while the elder boy was about eleven, maybe twelve, and had glasses. They all had the same hair colour; related?

Hook sneered at the children heartlessly, "Silence, you little brats - your turn is coming up."

They both jumped back and hiccuped on their own tears. This man was black inside. With his long, curly, raven locks and his defined cheeks and cold, deep eyes. But they weren't deep in the sense that they held much... they were deep, as in they held nothing, and therefore lead into nothingness forever. He was numb to anything happy or humane. But what did he want with this young people? Pan narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"I shall return soon. Have them ready for when I do so." Hook then waved his hand and went to turn; this hand was not of flesh, but of machine - the fingers made a soft humming sound when they moved and the palm of his hand twinkled with eletric sparks between the wired joints.

With that, Hook moved to the door, waved his real hand in front of the detective screen and the door slid aside to let him through. Pan's attention locked back onto the girl when she delivered a mighty kick to one of the scientists, bit the hand of another, and head-butted the third, sending off a chain of squeals and shouts of agony; she was suddenly awfully confident now that the 'big bad boss' had left. The girl, Wendy, turned to run back over to her brothers just as a metal collar on the end of a pole was closed around her neck and she was jerked backwards violently.

"Stop it!" The older boy sobbed.

Wendy scratched and tugged at the collar, but she wasn't going anywhere. Peter watched in disgust, and confusion; why were they about to operate in the same room that the Mainframe Computer was kept? Did they need power from its monitor to function some equipment? The girl, Wendy, was dragged over to the chair and thrown by her neck into the shape of the seat, and the soldiers who had been watching sternly from the door were given the opportunity to jump in for some action and wrestle with the girl, until her ankles, feet and neck were strapped in place. Then, the head Scientist, bald and wearing glasses, pulled down a head-piece that was attached to a machine on the ceiling and brought it near to her head.

"Don't look! Michael, John - close your eyes!" Wendy breathlessly ordered to them.

But Michael and John couldn't simply pretend it wasn't happening. They watched - they watched in horror and sadness, as if boring stares of love and goodbye into their sister's own watering eyes. Enough was enough. Pan grabbed his Sphere and punched on a few small buttons and clicked its body round. He then rolled it calmly down the tunnel, where it dropped through the next vent door and dropped outside; the hallway. Seconds went by until green fog began to seep in through the venting system and into the room; it was completely harmless, but these monsters didn't know it. All of a sudden, an alarm went off and the screaming of a constant siren informed everyone in the room that there was a dangerous emergency.

Delicate, fine water in the form of air sprayed out from the faucets that had been built into the ceiling and the soldiers ordered the scientists to evacuate the room immediately. The head Professor seemed adamant upon staying with the "subject", but the soldier wasn't yielding and pushed him out by physical power. Within seconds, the room was empty, all aside from the soldiers who were guarding the screaming boys and their strapped-up Wendy, who lay trapped, blinking rapidly as the water settled.

This was Pan's queue.

He spun round skilfully and slammed his feet down upon the vent so that it broke away and granted him entrance. He dropped out from above and landed on the ground gracefully, on his feet, and without falling. The soldiers went for him straight away - but they had no idea who this invader was, and what he was capable. The captives watched in awe and fear as this mysterious warrior spun, slid, swooped, leapt, punched and kicked. So many moves in such a short space of time. Not even a minute it lasted. The two soldiers were on the floor - unconscious, not dead. Pan tried to avoid murder.

Pan snapped out of his fighting stance once the intense silence was interrupted by Michael and Jonathan's sobbing, and he lowered his fists, and recomposed himself. He rushed to Wendy's chair and went to untie her, put she flinched and gasped, as though afraid of him too.

Pan paused and stared down at her over the edge of the grey cloth that stuck to his nose and lips, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Wendy watched him uncertainly but seemed to relax somewhat. Pan untied her ankles, wrists, and when he finally lifted the heavy, metal hat from her curly head, she bolted upright and released a chorus of relieved, traumatised pants, sobs and coughs. She quickly stopped herself, however, for her own sanity and for Michael and Jonathan's' sakes.

Wendy looked up at Peter again; her eyes were filled with nervous wonder, "... Who are you?"

"Pan. Now hurry up and get your friends out before these people realise what's really going on," Pan ordered while running over to the other side of the room, where a large, blank screen covered the wall and a table of buttons, levers and keys had been built in, "I've given us just enough time, but you have to be quick."

Wendy slipped down from the chair, "You mean- the smoke- and the alarm - this was you??"

Pan nodded, distracted by what he was doing on the computer, and spoke in quite an impatient rush, "Well aren't you a bullet. Now hurry up and get them out of the cage, or I'll have no choice but to leave you all behind. And those fast moves you pulled back there weren't so bad - maybe you can handle yourself wi"-

"No! Don't leave us!" Wendy gasped, "I'll do whatever you say...!"

Wendy didn't need to be told again. Retrieving the keys to the lock, she freed her two 'friends' who, by the way they greeted each other so lovingly and tightly, had to have been nothing else but her dear brothers. Pan drew his wrist - a small, round, silver ball was stuck to the surface of his skin. He gritted his teeth, he hissed, he braced the stinging, aching pain as he pulled the ball, which turned out to be a long, thick, mechanical tube that was embedded beneath his flesh. He slipped it into the computer's memory frame at once and began typing away.

"What are you doing?" Wendy asked, her voice trembling, as she hugged and held her brothers close.

"None of your business - just watch the camera." Pan authoritatively snapped back.

Wendy did as he ordered. But as she lifted her gaze onto the screen of the outside hall, her voice leapt out of her throat in a panicked squeal and the words mixed together under the pressure of her deep shock:

"Ohmygodhe'scoming!"

Pan cocked his head round to look at the screen, and as sure as his stomach had twisted nervously in warning, he saw the fierce and determined Hook rushing down the hall, pushing those of his own Scientists aside who dared to stupidly stumble or run across his path. He knew - he knew Pan, his enemy, the man who he shared more history with than his own mother, was responsible for this false alarm. And he wasn't running away.