A/N; This is a bit unusual for me as my main authors note is at the end as I don't want to spoil anything. That's also the reason the summery is awful and there are no tagged characters.
All I will say now is that I don't own Peter Pan.
His Name is ...
His name is James.
He spends his days sleeping and being watched by blobs. He doesn't really know who they are but knows he really likes the ones who call themselves Mother and Father. Mother fills his aching belly and holds him to her when he cries, and Father holds him when Mother isn't there.
He is fed often, clean and happy. He thinks this is heaven.
Until one day it changes.
Mother (no longer a blob but a pink shape like him with hair the colour of shadows) starts to make a strange noise, worse than he did when got what Mother called colic. Father worries and starts to disappear more, going to someplace called Job more often. James didn't understand what job was; only that Father went more often now to help Mother. James missed Father when he went, the pink shape going for longer and longer.
One day, Father didn't come back, and Mother cried between her noises, which came more often.
When Father disappeared, Mother started to come to him more often. She still fed him, a mushy mix now instead of being held to her, but it was less often, and sometimes James had to cry and cry before she would rise from her corner. Eventually, when James was in his pram, Mother fell and didn't get up, even when he screamed and fell out of the pram to the floor.
It got dark and light many times before James heard a voice again. The voice was kind of weird, not like the deep tones of Father or the tinkling of mothers; it was more like the sounds his pram wheel would make. Soon a green and pink shape, a light zipping at his sides appeared over him, lifting from the floor.
His name is Lost One.
He dashes through the tents of the Indian village, laughing and excited.
He doesn't remember how he got here, or know who the two distant pink shapes of his dreams are but he doesn't care, being cheerful and joyful with the village children.
He knows he is different to them, that one day he will leave the village and go join the other Lost ones in the forest under the care of Peter Pan.
Sometimes Pan visits, trailing the glittering Tinkerbelle and the Lost Boys, who are bigger than him. It is weird to think the James will get that big, although Chief promised that he wouldn't get as big as him or the other elders. James didn't understand why Chief looks sad at that.
James doesn't know what to think of Pan. He is bright and exciting and fun. James sort of wants to be like Peter, but there is also something scary about him. He sees how the Lost Boys don't like to argue with their leader, how they sometimes cower at his flying boys anger, even when it is obvious they don't want to play a game Pan comes up with.
Many moons pass and Lost One is soon able to reach the lowest knot of the tallest tree without going on his toes. Lost Watcher, whose tent he has shared for as long as he remembers smiles sadly when she sees this and starts to fuss over him.
The next night he is sent to the hideout to join the Lost Boys.
His name is Lefty.
He is called this as he can do things with his left hand. But not like Twiddles, who also fights with the 'wrong hand', no Lefty can do everything with his left hand as well as his right.
Lefty enjoys playing with the Lost Boys, although Worm is his favourite.
Worm would always hang out with him, would always pick the smaller boy to be his partner on treasure hunts. The lanky lad was the first to welcome him to the current hideout (which would change on Pan's whim, which was often) and lefty greatly admired him.
Then one day Worm was gone.
Lefty was greatly confused. Yesterday, he was laughing as how funny Worm sounded, his voice going from squeaky, likes the new Lost Boy Mouse; to a deep pitch the stirs lost memories in Lefty's subconscious.
Weirder than Worm's disappearance was the reaction of the others. When Lefty got up the courage to ask Pan about it, the young flyer looked confused and asked who he was talking about, whilst behind him, Tinkerbelle shook her head with a odd look.
The other Lost Boys would repeat what Peter said with stuttering voices until Magpie, named for habit of collecting shiny lost things that he hung from cords around his neck, pulled him away from the base and told him to stop. That every now and again some Lost Boys would just be gone and Pan would forget and it was better to forget as well.
But Lefty couldn't forget.
As time passed, Lefty noticed that the Boys who were gone had things in common. Their voices would become funny, or they grew hair on their faces. When Peter noticed this he would scowl, and by the next full moon, they would be gone. But Lefty kept this to himself, remembering the warning in Magpie's voice.
Then one day, Pan called a monster hunt.
The thing they were chasing was filthy, leaves sticking to its hair and its skin covered in mud. Peter had said that it took the shape of a Lost Boy but it wasn't that they should be fooled. They followed the monster until it tripped, and they threw rocks and hit it with sticks until it stopped moving. Peter cheered and led his follows back to the hideout, where they would celebrate as Pan told the story of how he single handily brought down the beast.
Lefty was trailing behind the pack when his foot caught on something lying on the ground. Bending down for a closer look, his face paled as he noticed that it was a collection of no longer shiny things hanging on cords.
When he got back to the hideout, he noticed Magpie was gone.
He had no name.
He was shivering on the ground inside an Indian Elders tent, the bloody stump of a left arm held close to his chest.
Peter Pan had tried to kill him.
Lost Watcher, who has more lines on his face and grey in her hair, gathered her to his breast as he relayed what happened.
He told them that a few weeks ago, when he was Lefty, he had noticed hair on his face, which he had managed to hide by getting muddier. How he pretended everything was fine until his voice changed, becoming funny like Worm's did before he was gone. He regaled how Pan had scowled and asked him to go on adventure just with him.
They had reached an old bridge that stretched over a lake where crocodile liked to hang out. Lefty had carried a ticking clock in his left hand, which he was swinging around, boasting about how he had found something new.
He had no idea what made him turn to face his leader, but it saved his life.
Tears ran down his face as he told Lost Watcher how he had barely managed to dodge the first swing of Pan's sword. How in the confusing and panic, he had raised his left arm, hoping to deflect a swing with the ticking clock, only for the sword, which was the sharpest thing in all of Neverland, had instead gone through his wrist, severing his ex-namesake from him.
In his shock, no name had stumbled, pitching over the rope railing of the bridge, Peter kicking his served limb and clock off after him. Looking back, he admits he was lucky to hit the hidden platform where the Indian tribe goes to watch and grieve the demise of their former charges.
Tinkling bells draw startled eyes towards the entrance, visions of Pan's loyal fairy coming to tattle on his survival, running through his head.
Instead of the fiery tempered female, 3 elderly fairies fluttered in and the Indians knelt. Two where identical in all but colours, where one was dark haired, pale blue eyes and garbed in a flowing sliver grab, her sister was blonde with her eyes the colour of the sun. Her gown reflected the sky at dawn, all yellow and pinks and shining.
The last, who was obviously the leader as he stood between and in front of the other, was a figure of great wisdom and power. He, one of the few male fairies ever seen outside of their hollow, was a stately figure, dressed in black robes. When he spoke, it echoed with the cry of a baby, wedding bells, and groans of the dying.
"Young one" to this figure, they were all young, "We come to offer you a choice. One we offer to the few who do escape the fate of the Lost Boys"
No-name stared wide eyed at the sprite. "Fate, what fate?"
The white haired fairy smiled sadly at him. "Peter Pan is an eternal child. He truly hates the idea of growing up and thus surrounds himself with only children, ones who get lost in the otherworld. However unlike Pan, these children do age, growing into adults in time. This frightens Pan, so he gets the problem. "
"You child, have become the problem. You are transitioning, growing. And like those who came before you, Peter felt compelled to hunt you down. To kill the monster he feels adults can be. It is rare that his victims escape, as you did. And those who last to the sun goes, until Pan forgets you ever existed, get offered the choice." Her sister continued.
The male spread his arms, summoning in front of him two balls of light. "The first option is to return to the otherworld and to forget. You will live out your life as if you were always part of that world, learning and growing until your last day." The ball on the right flashed.
"The second option is to join the tribe and remember. Many of the tribesmen are former lost ones. If you chose this path, you will be bound to watch only. You will not be allowed to interfere; you must leave the Lost Ones to their fates, to either die or be offered the choice." The left ball flashed at the last word.
No-name stared at both of the lights, scowling. What kind of choice is that, to forget or do nothing? He already felt guilty, believing that if he pushed harder, asked more, he could have saved Magpie and Twiggy and the others.
He shook his head at the trio. "No. I can't sit back and do nothing. I swear Pan will pay for this, if it is my power other's will live."
As one the fairies smiled before the middle one spoke "Are you sure. If you take this path, you will hated by all who do not know the truth. These humble Indians are tasked to guide and protect the young ones before they join the Lost Ones, they will not be able to help you and must be your enemies. But if you succeed, you will gain a crew more loyal than any."
No-one nodded his mind clear and resolute.
All three fairies bowed their heads and lifted their hands. The two lights drifted closer together and merged. It twisted and grew, growing dimmer and darker until floating in front of No-name was a shining, sliver hook.
His name was Captain James Hook and he was a pirate.
A decade had passed since he had made his choice, one he never regretted, and he was fully grown and he would forever keep the look he had now.
He and his gang where hidden in the overgrowth, waiting in ambush. At his side, Mister Smee, the first of the former Lost Boys who accepted his offer to join his pirate gang, trembled with nerves.
Not every Lost Boy chose to join the pirates, the original choice was still offered with a now third option being added, but the ones who did were angry and resentful, but as was promised, more loyal than Hook could ever dream.
Rustling in the bushed ahead drew his attention, the act of the evil pirate captain falling over his shoulders like his coat.
"Right Lads, charge!"
Hook shouted his order as ran forward, drawing the eye of Pan who had just entered the clearing with his Lost Boys. As he clashed swords with his enemy, he was aware of his youngest and newest crew members peeling off towards a cowering figure that was previously being chased.
Later, when his latest crew member asks if he regrets his choice, Hook will shake his head. Yes, he is hated and despised, he has to act cruel and malicious to his friends in front of those who do not know the truth, but ultimate he is saving lives of those whose only crime is getting lost and growing up.
His name was Captain James Hook and he finally knew who he was.
A/N: Well there you go.
I got this idea from a theory that I read that stated that Hook was actually the hero that saved the lost boys from Pan when they started to grow up. It's not canon as in one of the novels, Barrie stated that Hook as educated in a university before coming to Neverland.
I wrote about three quarters of these months before the ending so it may seem a bit odder and different at the end as I forgot where I was going with this. But still, his has got to be the longest thing I have ever written as either a one-shot or as a chapter.
I hope you enjoyed
And if you live in the UK, Happy Mother's Day/ Mothering Sunday.