BIG IMPORTANT NOTES: Why yes, this IS a repost. I apologize to my readers who were already into this story, but while working on Chapter 38 I re-read what I'd written so far, and frankly, it was horrifying. There were more continuity errors, OOC behaviors, and incoherent moments than I'd thought there were. I've been writing this fic one chapter at a time while working on other personal projects, going to college, and holding a job, so I never drafted chapters more than once before posting them. I apologize for that; it meant lots of sub-standard chapters were presented to my readers. Therefor, I am now putting this story through a second draft before finishing it. The old chapters have been taken down and the new ones will be posted as I complete them. Which should be fairly quickly ^_~ I thank you for your patience and your support, and I hope that once the re-draft is complete it'll be a tighter, more engaging story with better character development and plots, and will lead to a much more satisfying ending than was possible before.

Oh, and I should also point out, in case there are any new readers finding this story for the first time, that the characters are as they were presented in the television show Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates. In that version, Billy Jukes was a cabin boy and gunner, approximatly 13 or 14, who looked to the fearsome and superstitious pirate Mullins as a friend and father figure. He befriended the Lost Boy Slightly in an instance where Mullins, delirious with fever, jumped ship and got himself lost on the island, and Slightly helped Billy save him. Mullins, of course, remembers nothing ^_~

If you find yourself with any questions or comments, feel free to email me. My address is in my profile.

Have fun ^_^

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Title: The Subtlety of Nightmares

Author: D.K. Archer

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Barrie and Fox. No profit is made, and this fic is for entertainment purposes only.

WARNINGS: THIS STORY IS RATED PG-13 FOR A REASON! It contains some violence, references to abuse, and very mild homosexual content. Also occasional swearing (pirates, go figure) and character death. While none of this content is applied without a purpose, this story may not be appropriate to children or to those who don't want to see Peter Pan characters involved in adult situations.

***

There wasn't any moon that night. The stars filtered palely through a smear of frozen clouds, casting diffused, disinterested patches through the canopy of the trees. Somewhere in the dark Slightly knew there were Night Things watching him, things that didn't need the light to see, and every twig they broke and leaf they disturbed burst adrenaline low in his stomach. To the left, the right, and towering above him, the thick prickly branches of nighttime vegetation hung, invisible, stretching out to scratch at him as he passed. He didn't even know if he was in the right place.

"Slightly!"

A rough hiss mere inches from his ear, and the boy jolted, fingers tightening convulsively around the little container he'd brought. He had the terrible feeling that whatever was breathing hot puffs against his face from the dark forest could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

Slightly swallowed. "B-b-billy?"

"Did anyone follow you?"

He shook his head. "No. They're all slightly asleep." He whispered. For some reason it felt profane and dangerous to interrupt the darkness. Beside him he heard something shift and Billy's dark hand fingered the small, hollow gourd questioningly.

"It's medicine. For your face. Great Big Little Panther said it would keep the infection from setting on a wound." Slightly explained.

"What else is in there?" he rasped suspiciously. His voice sounded like he'd been sick. Slightly frowned, not sure whether or not to question the paranoia.

"Nothing. It's just the medicine; I watched him put it together. It isn't poisoned or anything."

Billy gave a rough sound and chilled fingers closed over Slightly's forearm. "Come on."

How Billy could see in the dark when Slightly couldn't he didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to. He carefully sidestepped every obstruction and the hand that held Slightly's wrist was taught without crushing, the fingers stiff and immobile and the tendons trembling against his skin. Slightly knew better than to ask the obvious question; Are you okay?

"Where are we going?" He asked instead.

"Someplace safe." Billy croaked. "I found a cave. There are caves everywhere on this island."

"Don't slightly terrible things live in caves?"

Billy barked hoarsely and squeezed Slightly's arm. It took Slightly several seconds to realize it had been intended as a laugh.

The canopy of the trees tightened over them, pushing Slightly further and further into blindness while Billy pushed on, unaffected. The bright eyes of Neverland at Night pressed at their backs but kept their distance. He wasn't sure just where they were going until Billy braced a hand against Slightly's chest and stopped him. Night things chirruped in the silence.

"Why did you stop?" Slightly asked hesitantly.

"It's here." He said. Slightly could see nothing at all and he wondered absently just how heavy the leaves were to block out every trace of the stars. "You have to duck. Here." He pulled Slightly's arm forward until his finger butted against stone. Billy dragged them down to where the wall gave way to an opening, at about waist level. Billy tugged him forward and Slightly took a moment to feel out the dimensions of the cave mouth before ducking inside. He was receiving nothing from his eyes now; the darkness had reduced them to tumors in the face, and Slightly was forced to place his trust in Billy's guidance. He could hear their footsteps echoing softly into the distant innards of the cave. Without sight he had no warning when the ground dropped out from under his feet, sending him skittering down the unseen slope on his rump.

"Watch out for the drop." Billy said belatedly, and a little apologetically. "Wait there a second."

Slightly stood and brushed himself off, feeling suspiciously like he was bleeding at his hip, and listened with acute ears as Billy moved around the cavern. Something grated and cracked and a spark of light flashed in the darkness. It happened again, and again, and a set of swear words Slightly had never heard before echoed off the walls. Finally a spark flared, fell, and stayed. He heard Billy blowing on it till suddenly the cavern was lit with a flare of yellow as a flame leapt out of the darkness, lapping unsteadily at a branch of dead briar. Billy pulled back from the flame and began to stuff previously collected briar tufts into the flare.

His face looked worse than Slightly thought it had. When he'd seen Billy this morning he'd been with Peter, and unable to pause for a good look or even a question. The pirate had been standing with his back to a tree, shaking, and trying to obscure himself from Peter's view. If Peter had not been so absorbed in the sound of his own voice he would have seen him there. It looked like someone had cut his face but he hid behind the curtain of his hair, and Slightly had been able to tell very little from him. All Slightly had been able to do was shoot a desperate look at Peter's back and mouth the words "I'll be back" to Billy's shadow.

Slightly had figured something must have happened between Billy and the pirates. Billy was the only one on the island, and for once today Peter had found himself something better to do than harass the Jolly Roger, so Slightly had no idea why.

In the light of the fire, it looks like someone had done a good deal more than cut him. The right side of his mouth was not cut but split open, in a vertical stripe that would undoubtedly leave a scar when it healed. It was surrounded by a red and purple bruise against his dark skin, and similar treatment had been given to his eyebrow. His cheek on that side was not split but it was blackened. He'd been hit more than once. It looked like he was missing a tooth.

"Billy! What happened to your face!"

He ducked his head "Nevermind my face!" He snapped. "T-theres something wrong with me, Slightly. I need help."

"What is it?" Slightly asked, dropping down onto his knees by the fire and and trying unsuccessfully to get a better look at Billy's face.

"I-I don't know." He admitted hesitantly.

"Well then tell me what happened. Start at the beginning." Slightly said, parroting Wendy when one of the boys came home with a fantastic tale behind a tied tongue. Billy took a deep breath and held it, thinking.

"I've been having dreams lately, bad ones." He began finally. "Mullins says I'm screaming in my sleep and they can't wake me up. The first night it happened Hook heard it and came storming to the forecastle. Mullins and Starkey trying to pin me down., so I wouldn't hurt myself. Hook…um, Hook got the wrong idea." Billy scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"I don't always remember what I've been dreaming. But last night I had a really bad one. I was at a tavern, and there was this man there with lace all over his jacket. He was smoking and renting out these, these little girls! When I realized what he was doing I took him out behind the tavern with me, telling him I had something to negotiate." Billy fluttered. "I wanted to hurt him, for what he was doing to those girls, and for PROFITING off it. I-I thought I was just going to beat him up.

"But when I got him out there I didn't just beat him up. I stabbed him in the neck, and there just went blood, everywhere. He fell back against the wall and I was shouting at him, and I ripped his shirt, and I bit him. I bit him in the shoulder, and I kept doing it, until I was, I was EATING him."

"Eating him?!" Slightly balked. "Why would you want to do something like that?"

The boy winced and Slightly thought he saw his mouth tremble, but it might have just been the flicker of the firelight. Slightly, feeling he had said something stupid, fidgeted with the blistered skin of the little hollow gourd.

Billy continued. "Mullins said before that I must have had demons pestering me at night to make me dream like that, and he made me sleep with a rosary and garlic. They didn't really help anything….."

Billy trailed off for a moment, and paused to suck and chew at his split lips. He seemed to be debating how (or whether) to continue.

Jukes took a deep breath and swallowed. "This morning I didn't wake up in the crew quarters. I-I woke up on the deck." He knotted his hands together, rushing. "I was…there…There was blood on the boards. And Smee was dead."

Slightly's eyes widened. Billy let out a quivering puff of air and swallowed.

"Smee's dead? How?"

The boy shut his eyes and barked laughter, but his voice was far too high. "I-I don't know. There was...there was too much of him missing, but no one heard screaming, so I must have killed him first before I started on him!" Billy's voice had slid into a higher register, and he dig his fingernails into his palms to try to stop it. "He was a mess. His blood was all over me. On my clothes. My hair. I could taste it in my mouth. I started screaming and the crew ran up, and they saw me there, saw me there in the blood." He swallowed, his throat bobbing.

Slightly blinked. "Billy…"

"I didn't do it! I didn't remember it!" he shouted, his straight face cracking as his mouth pulled back into a grotesque grimace. "But I was the only one there, I was the one with blood on my face! Mullins, he…he backed away from me, muttering something about demons! He was right, it had to be, it couldn't have been me, even in a dream, it couldn't have been me!"

Billy forced his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against his palms. Slightly cautiously put an arm around his shoulder.

"Th-the captain came out of his quarters." Billy continued. "The noise, the shouting, h-he saw Smee on the deck and the blood. He-he started to hit me!" he looked up, and his eyes were red. "I've never seen him so angry! He grabbed me by the back of the head and shoved my face down to Smee's and demanded to know where the rest of him was. Smee's eyes…they were white, and there were flies… I-I got sick!" He stopped to swallow. "I made it to the side of the ship but everyone could see it was blood! Just blood and strips of meat and…and they knew where the rest of Smee was! They knew I'd…I...!"

Billy hid his face in his hands again, and his shoulders were shaking, but not from tears. Slightly, who was only twelve and only understood the words, not the depth of horror behind them, pulled Billy against his side and waited for him to speak.

When his voice came again he sounded pathetic, and small.

"I'm cursed, Slightly." He moaned. "Even Mullins wouldn't touch me. H-he defended me when Hook tried to kill me, said it wasn't my fault; I was possessed by a demon to make me do this. But he wouldn't touch me. He wouldn't come near me." His breath caught again, and this time it sounded halfway like a sob. "I had to run away. Hook tried to come after me with his sword but Mullins got in the way, and I jumped over the side of the ship."

Billy stared into the fire, obviously not seeing it. His eyes looked shiny and wet.

"I need your help, Slightly." He said, as calmly as he could, but his tone held a taught, underlying tremble. "I need to get rid of it, this demon in me. I can't go to the Indians because they'll kill me on sight, and I can't go to the fairies because the fairies are in league with Pan. I can't go to sleep until I have this thing out of me, Slightly, what if I do it again?"

Slightly, who wasn't quite so forgetful as the other boys, knew very well that Billy's hands weren't clean of blood to begin with. He was a gunner on a pirate ship, and if Hook had ever captured any prize at all the blood of many sailors was stuck to Billy's soul.

"What can I do?" Slightly asked helplessly. "If I go to the Indians on your behalf Peter will find out. They already asked too many questions when I asked them for the balm. And if Peter knows I'm helping you he'll chase me away. Pirates and Lost Boys are supposed to be enemies, remember?"

"But I'm not a pirate anymore! Do you think I could ever go back to that ship?" Billy braced his elbows against his knees, dropping his chin into his hands. "I can't go back. I can't ever see Mullins again. If I go back Hook will kill me, he might STILL kill me if he finds me out on the island. I killed his bo'sun!"

In a seemingly delayed reaction, Billy pulled his hand back and frowned at the spot of blood that had come away from his face. Slightly held out the tiny gourd to Billy; he sniffed the contents cautiously, and frowned. For some reason the part of Slightly's mind that wasn't understanding all of this found this amusing, and he took it back with a lopsided smirk and began to smear the vicious stuff over the splits in Billy's face. His friend flinched at being touched, but his conviction wavered as Slightly's hand stayed gentle, and he closed his eyes and leaned against Slightly's hand like an attention starved cat. Somehow that was more disturbing than the words he had been hearing, for how shaken Billy had to be take comfort from something so trivial as this.

Slightly, who had been on the island far longer than Billy Jukes and his crew, knew there were three magic users in Neverland; the fairies, the redskins, and the Old Witch. The Indians were a good enough sort, and quiet, but they were also very loyal and at the moment that loyalty leaned toward Peter Pan. If they went to them seeking help, they'd tell Peter what was happening right away, and Peter would ruin any chance of success. The Old Witch would probably be more qualified to handle a demon infestation, but Slightly had never spoken to her, if he could help it. He'd met redskins before who had paid terrible prices for her service. Slightly wouldn't involve Jukes in someone like her.

"Billy, if I'm with you, we can go to the fairies for help." He decided finally, taking back his hand.

Billy looked up, startled. "But they'll tell Peter what you're doing."

"They might. But the fairies slightly trust the Lost Boys, they won't think I'm there without Peter's sanction. By the time Peter finds out they'll have gotten rid of the…the thing in you."

Jukes blinked at him. "But Peter won't ever trust you again. The Lost Boys are all you have, you can't give that up."

"The pirates were all you had." He answered softly. Billy fell quiet and looked down at the fire.

"They…they weren't." he answered just as quietly.

"Then the Lost Boys aren't all I have, either."

It was silent for a moment before Billy looked up, searching Slightly's face to ascertain the actual meaning of what he'd just said. But whatever he saw there seemed to confirm his conclusion, and his eyes widened.

"We slightly can't go to Small Monday Island till tomorrow." Slightly said, looking back towards the fire to break the eye contact, and Billy did the same. Billy's face looked a little pink. "There's still a few hours left until dawn. We'll have to wait."

Billy nodded and leaned his chin against his knuckles. "Don't let me fall asleep, cully."

"I won't. You'll be safe with me."

"My safety's not what I'm worried about."

Slightly looked at him sidelong with a halfhearted smile on his mouth. "I know."

For a long moment the silence was thick between them. Billy managed to return the smile with as little enthusiasm, and they turned their faces back towards the fire to wait for the fuel to run out, and the darkness to close in over them once more.

The prospect of dawn seemed suddenly very, very far away.