Tinkerbell watched Peter and that loathsome Wendy go off together into the crystal blue Neverland sky. And the green ooze of envy she had fended off exploded within her. All she could see was green.
She flew back to the Nevertree, each beat of her heart and wings spreading that sickly green ooze a little farther through her body, a little tighter around her heart. The scenery of Neverland flew by her, blurred by her velocity. The bright sunny beach she had left behind emitted a glow on the rest of the C-shaped island. She sped by, as the color scheme changed from blue and yellow to green. Her destination came closer and closer to her, until, with a final flutter of her wings, Tinkerbell landed on a branch of the Nevertree. Her chest heaving a little with the combined effort of flying all the way over here and attempting to keep the vomit green goo at bay, she attempted to rid her mind of Wendy by taking in the scenery.
The most prominent thing in the forest was the Nevertree and the clearing surrounding it. The tree was huge, at least twenty feet taller than the others in the forest. The Neverforest was in a state of eternal spring, and the vibrant hues of green reflected that, from the leaves of the trees, a vivacious emerald, to the spring-green blades of grass, the dew-drops glimmering in the sun.
She was drowning in green, and this didn't stop the ooze any. So, without a second thought, Tinkerbell called for the Lost Boys.
Faerie, the language Tinkerbell's people spoke, wasn't really words as much as it was a rush of music, conveying moods, information and emotions. It was the sound of a flute tootling out its merry rhythm, a French horn bellowing out its noise, a harp's strings being daintily plucked. Faerie was, without a doubt, the most universal language.
But now her voice was the sound of a squeaky violin, screeching almost unbearably high. The Lost Boys jolted awake, at the message that Peter was in danger from a terrible beast, the "Wendy-bird."
"Peter, in danger?"
"We have to go help him!"
"Bring the bows and arrows!"
"Yes, shoot the Wendy-bird!"
It stuck. Cheers of "Shoot the Wendy-bird!" echoed around the Nevertree. All the boys ran out, each armed with a bow and arrows.
There were Peter and Wendy, in the sky. The green ooze was pulsating through her body even faster now.
Another rush of music, this time begging them to shoot! Shoot so that Peter may live!
A twang. The arrow arched through air, a graceful curve in the sky.
And a faint, sickening "thud," as the arrow hit the Wendy-bird. Tinkerbell could've sworn she saw droplets of blood flick out, and the rest of it slowly soak the area of the night gown around it.
There was a clearer, more sickening "thud" as the Wendy-bird's body hit the ground.
It was dead silent for a heartbeat. Not one of the Lost Boys moved. Not a single animal so much as quivered. Not even the wind dared to rustle a leaf. The tight grip the goo had on Tinkerbell's heart started to loosen.
And then a cry. Peter swooped down, followed by Michael and John.
"You idiots! Wendy was going to be your new mother! She was going to tell us all sorts of wonderful stories!" Tinkerbell's heart plummeted. Still Peter preferred Wendy? And what of ever-faithful Tinkerbell? Did he simply not have time for her anymore?
"Wendy? WENDY!" cried John.
"Wendy? Please wake up, you have to take us home to Mummy!" whispered Michael. John fell weeping, with Michael by his side, the younger one still trying to shake her awake.
"Who did this?!" roared Peter. Tinkerbell stiffened as Curly told Peter of what Tinkerbell told them. She slowly tried to flutter away, but two hands clamped around her, preventing escape.
Tinkerbell stopped. Never before had Peter captured her. She felt a new wave of hatred for Wendy.
"Why did you do it Tink?" he hissed. "Curly, remove the arrow and give her bandages!"
Tinkerbell remained silent. There would be no answer for this monster who had taken her beloved Peter's place.
"Tell me now, Tink!" Peter spat. A little louder, a little more threatening.
Silence greeted him.
"Fine then!" Peter yelled, "If you won't tell me, you are henceforth banished from the Nevertree!"
There was a collective gasp.
"No, Peter, please don't." whispered a faint voice.
"Wendy!" cried John and Michael in unison.
Peter let Tinkerbell go, giving her one final glare, before running over to Wendy.
Tinkerbell, with one last huff, flew off. She could feel the tears on her face, crystalline drops of moisture. She was about to turn back for one final look when she remembered Peter's glare. Eyes hard now, Tinkerbell wiped the tears off her face and flew into the sky.
Tinkerbell had been flying through the Neverforest all day, the grief and sorrow wearing her down. Finally, at dusk, she broke through to the beach. The silhouette of a boat was docking on the shore.
A man came off deck. Where his right hand should've been was a brass hook, glinting in the last of the day's light.
Tinkerbell knew he was bad news. It was, after all, the notorious Captain Hook. But that… that Wendy needed to go. Tinkerbell soared over to him.
"Well, if it isn't Peter Pan's little pixie. What are you doing here with no Pan in sight?"
Tinkerbell opened her mouth, and everything spilled out. Seeing Peter and Wendy flying off, abandoning her, the green ooze, the Lost Boys shooting the "Wendy-bird," Peter glaring at her. By the time she was finished, Tinkerbell was shuddering deeply, trying not to cry.
Captain Hook listened to her story with a sympathetic frown on his face. As the story came to a close, he gave her a smile, which was infinitely more frightening. His yellow teeth gleamed in the moonlight.
"Well, Miss Tinkerbell, how would you like it if I removed this Wendy for you?" There was a sly grin on Hook's face.
Her wings flapped eagerly.
"Well then, miss Tinkerbell, I think this is the start of a wonderful friendship," said Hook, extending his hook.
Tinkerbell giggled, the sound of tinkling bells, and put out her own petite hand to shake the tip of his shining hook.