Title: Dreaming of Fantasy's Realities
Rating: PG, I suppose
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Note: Set in an undisclosed time before the story with Wendy that we all know and love.
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Dreaming of Fantasy's Realities
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Hook dreamed while he slept, his ship keeled over in the ice-shelf and his crew in similar states of disassociation. When he had laid his head on the desk, his sight had crusted over like a vision of frost, but, soon enough, he awoke to his dream full of colours and warmth.
He still had both his hands. He was always flying in these dreams. Soaring through the pastel clouds, smiling broadly, following the sound of a young voice, the familiar condescending voice of the boy who had left Never Land again to freeze away from these dreams. But here, but now, it was summertime again, and they were flying.
As they soared through the clouds, Hook only ever saw glimpses of the boy he sought. Sometimes, though, the boy would trail behind him before shooting forward once more, causing the pirate to wonder who was truly chasing who.
Then, on this rare occasion, even in the dream world, Hook caught Peter Pan, and they plummeted to the ship below them. He always savoured these instances, for they were far and few in between. But this time, he grinned and caught the boy as he attempted to barrel past him, and Hook clung to him as they dropped, so as not the lose him, even as the boy kicked and clawed bitterly at him, honest fear creeping into his movements as they fell together.
"No..." he whispered, unbelieving. "This isn't how it goes..."
"Now, it is, boy."
They both crashed heavily into the deck of the ship, cracking the thick wood and tar with their combined force, though Hook felt nothing, too elated at the capture.
When he stood, Peter Pan was not there; baffled at this new trick, Hook looked around, only to see that winter had returned, a darker version of the season as it brooded through the cold, hushed and wary of warmth, shivering with delighted apathy.
"He's not comin' back, Cap'n," Smee stated sadly at Hook's elbow. Tiredly, he peered down at a pocketwatch, which was ticking loudly in the silent chill. "He ain't never comin' back anymore. He's gone for good this time."
Slowly, for it hurt to do anything quickly, Hook slid his namesake (when had that returned?) over to half-heartedly smash the pocketwatch into pieces, the metal bits dropping heavily onto the ice below.
Hook sighed. "I know."
When he turned from the broken watch upon the ice, Hook began to walk down a dimly-lit cobblestone road before blinking. A half-remembered voice, deeper and more mature, floated from the balcony window above him. Peering through the ever-present mists of London, Hook saw a tall blond man happily smiling at the brunette woman in his arms.
"A son! I'm going to have a son!" the man merrily crowed, oblivious to the world outside the beaming woman.
"Or a daughter, Peter," she gently chided.
The pirate caught his breath. "Peter...Pan?"
Then, the older Peter suddenly looked straight down at Hook and blinked, furrowing his brow before shaking his head and escorting the brunette through the window. He firmly locked it after it clicked shut resolutely.
"Does he not remember?" Hook wondered as the mists shifted thickly, obscuring all vision of the window and its occupants. "Did he really choose this life over Never Land?"
He wandered the streets that were now his home since the one boy who would never grow up finally did actually grow up. Afterwards, Never Land simply ceased to exist, as if only Pan had created it entirely and therefore decimated it by forgetting it like an outgrown toy.
"Peter..." Hook whispered tiredly, laying his head to rest in his one hand, the other limb ending in a lump of scarred flesh. He closed his eyes with a sigh.
And opened them again to excited shouting from the deck. Blearily, he looked over his shoulder out the glass windows and saw the ice cracking.
With a sly smile, Captain James Hook stood and donned both hook and clothing before heading onto deck, into fantasy's reality.
Peter Pan had returned at last.