It was strange, that final prick within the chest of James Hook. Peter felt him pulse over the blade, and then he pulsed no more. Hook fell away from the blade, eyes of piercing blue clouded over and Hook ceased to be a man, and became a body. He watched as it fell backwards into that water to be swallowed whole by the crocodile.
And he was gone.
Gone. Gone.
Forever gone.
But Peter did not understand things that went away. To him forever was all that he knew.
He tired of it. Peter looked to the sky as if old Hook has escaped a shell and now blew away with the wind. Would James turn into a rainstorm, or perhaps a clap of thunder? Peter feared becoming a man because forever was all that he knew. He envied, now, the freedom of death that he had given Hook. He wished to be a bird, a fish, a little ray of sunshine.
But he was trapped within this body of a boy.
No one would doubt the bravery of Peter Pan, but as he turned his blade towards his own belly his hand shivered and was overcome with cowardice.
Peter dropped the blade and looked about.
To them all he was victorious.
They cheered and danced around the bodies of the fallen pirates, and the clouds overhead grew huge with their souls. A rain would soon begin.
Bring me another, begged Peter. Bring me another strong man.
Peter bent to pick up the blade, ready once more for battle. For adventure.