Original characters belong to the film writers. Mermaid supportive character is mine.

Also inspired by selected details from Hook: a Novel, by Terry Brookes (Based on a Screenplay by Jim V. Hart and Malia Scotch Marmo).

Takes place between Peter's leave right up to his return as Peter Banning.


When Peter Pan tore himself from Neverland completely, the island had taken a wild turn.

He was its chosen shepherd for so long that, gradually but surely, Neverland had altered its image according to Peter's entire way of thinking.

Then abruptly Neverland was without its faerie whisperer one day; and one day stretched into months, even years... It had been Springtide again when Pan went off to visit the Wendy Bird just as he had done so every Springtide before. Yet something must've occurred in the Outside World, because that time around, Pan did not return home.

Without a warning, without a trace, without any words of farewell, Pan left all he'd held most cherished behind him.

And during Pan's course of absence, the Nevermagic had naturally aimed towards another chosen one—molding itself to Pan's Second in Command—to the certain Lost Boy dubbed Rufio, once from a small Philippian settlement.


Rufio's general demeanor however, was...well, in short, more challenging to connect with in contrast to the flying Peter Pan the island came to know so well. And since the seasons couldn't really keep up with Rufio's fluctuating mood, they were ultimately thrown off their regular track. At times he could be as fiery and spritely as the summer heat that leisurely rolled across the cosmic jungle. But within a blink of an eye, he was capable of turning absolute overriding and as cruel as winter's icy bite. In result of this, all four seasons fell upon the core of Neverland simultaneously. A large slope of snow soon kissed the scorching sands waiting below while the autumn leaves flitted downwards, piling together underneath the gentle, green rains of newborn mornings.

Although it wasn't just the magical forces of the island which had grown a bit confused. No, the Lost Boys noticed a rather dramatic shift in their ranks as well. No Nap, Don't Ask, and Latchboy detected how they all started to subtly divide themselves into two basic classes. Ace and Thud Butt, in particular, had somehow attained more selective authority over them along the way without even negotiating for it. The boys hadn't essentially loathed the slight social drift as it happened—but it was just an extra change they mutually learned to accept.

The supposed "lesser class" contained the youngest of children found at the Nevertree Hideaway, who had to be more fostered by Rufio himself or others available to them through actual necessity. The scarce amount of boys strictly dedicated to Pan primarily and foremost, were added to their group too (that is to say, if they could remember Pan very well at all. Neverland was not too kind in preserving the memories of children.)

The remaining of the Lost Boys were either older or sharp enough, to realize it'd be better to flow with the new main crowd growing—Rufio's crowd—otherwise the boys were Neverland newcomers altogether, never having met Peter Pan whatsoever. They were easily subjective to minding Rufio's instructions straight to their possible graves.


In the meantime, Neverland had reached its completion of shapeshifting into what Rufio purely desired of it henceforth. And all the islanders as a whole invested rightful time into adjusting to this transition likewise.

Chief Great Big Little Panther had modestly invited the Lost Tribe to his encampment for a casual initiation. Piccaninny people and Lost Boys joined forces for one night, fully discarding a typical match of Cat and Mouse, and danced along to a drumming beat round a towering blue fire in Rufio's honor. Many moons ago, they had delivered Pan the tribal alias of The Little White Bird. And to maintain the common peace with the new Lost Leader therefore, they respectably entitled Rufio, Dark Howling One.

However, established on the opposite side of the island—Captain Jas Hook was most shocked by the unexpected twist in events. Even when Peter Pan was nothing more to him than a splitting headache—the little flyer had always been so damned carefree during their constant chain of duels. There had always been a vigorous gleam in his eye, and always had that cocky smile plastered across that petty freckled face of his. In fact, it was sometimes difficult to take Pan that seriously since Jas wasn't ever remotely engrossed in his boyish games and ploys. Though at least, Peter Pan relatively appreciated the unadorned roll of his eyes. Occasionally he and Pan would insult each other through exaggerated yawns, and simply went about their days, not bothering with any slaying attempts at the given moment.

Needless to say Rufio was an utterly different circumstance.

The second Lost Leader seemed to be roughly Peter's age, give or take a year or so—and yet Rufio was definitely not as happy-go-lucky as Pan had been. To him, pirates were not just corrupt playmates per se, they were outright adversaries. Moreover, the minute Rufio had inherited the island's special attention, Jas understood in no time if he wanted his existent hand still attached to him at the end of every day—then he had to be on his guard more than ever. (Or else Rufio might have sought out to claim it as his own trophy.) The boy had been indeed fiercer in battle and positively jaded-hearted. The only time Jas had heard anything close to Rufio's real laugh was after a pirate fell limp under the assault of his sword.

The notorious Captain had even lost faith in preforming his standard tactics for luring Lost Boys out from hiding, via dangling their captured comrades in nets as open bait. Pan on one hand, would have flown in without hesitation, keeping his valiant reputation unspoiled. Rufio on the other, amazingly never bought into this timeworn hoax. The Lost Leader evidently supported the more traditional Survival of the Fittest theory instead.


And ever lingering on the sidelines, witnessing all these modifications happen, the Sea Maidens were extraordinarily problematic when it came to converting over, in comparison to the Piccaninny Chief. The Never Pod's devotion to Peter had become a hard bond to sever throughout the years. After all, mermaids were still a slimer breed of Fae, and Fae normally did not open up to any person (Tinkerbell was proof to this concept herself).

Only one of the numerous sisters dwelling in the Lagoon had developed the sufficient amount of curiosity to confront the new stranger-boy lounging on Peter Pan's usual rock lately, which stretched a little ways out from the very edge of the bluffs. Unsurprisingly it was the youngest of them—Alluré, who wasn't as conditioned as her elders were. She hadn't personally known the Pan for that long prior to his mysterious departure; so theoretically, she wasn't as concerned about locking her own allegiance away from the new Lost Leader either.

Letting the colliding waves carry her in further towards the coastline, Alluré had bobbed to the surface, hoping to steal a better look at him.

But it was already too late for her to turn back, for the boy clad in black and red garments quickly spotted her. He sat up from his relaxing position, drawing out the golden Pan blade from his belt, utterly prepared to strike.

His reaction made the young mermaid gasp and wade backwards with a mild splash.

The two stared at each other, both frozen, waiting for the attack to occur from his end or hers. Rufio briefly observed the imposter over while doing so. This girl didn't exactly resemble any stern-faced tribal female of Neverland he'd met such as Tiger Lily. She lacked the painted facial markings, the muscular running legs and was visibly much paler. She also possessed elegant long auburn tresses, coiling freely about her half-form, decorated with strands of pearls and seashells rather than beads and owl feathers twisted together. Her eyes were a rare light blue that matched the turquoise nuggets sometimes discovered at additional ponds nearby, and her full lips were smeared with an odd gold dust. She had very strange ears though—they were fleshy and webbed, like frog feet pinned sideways on her head. Her upper body scales were flushed, a darkened shade of pink, but as she moved her tail back and forth to keep herself afloat in one place, all of them shimmered coral-orange. Must have been a trick of the light.

Rufio finally decided none of these things were so menacing like he had first anticipated.

He was the one who broke the tension by muttering, "You're no threat." And with his bluntness, he re-sheathed his weapon.

"Are the rumors true?" Alluré asked, viewing this as an unlocked window of opportunity. "Have you really taken the Pan's crown recently?"

"I have his sword here, donn' I?" Rufio proposed, matter-of-factly.

Holding the Pans Sword was like owning twenty crowns to a Lost Boy.

Alluré inched nearer and nearer, until she was able to haul herself out from the lively waters, making her perch over the cluster of smooth stones below his platform. "I am called Alluré. What is your name, boy?"

"Rufio."

Smiling delicately, she continued to gaze up at him in pure wonder. She had never encountered a mortal at such a close range till this afternoon; partly because her sisters warned her of the dreadful boatmen working aboard the Jolly Roger. "Will you play the pipes for us from now on?"

Rufio scoffed at her scarcely fascinated now. "I don't play the pipes. Pan did."

"You must tell stories then, yes?"

"Not really," A small smirk crept upon his face in return. Everyone else learned Rufio ordinarily wasn't one to give into any favors without a self-beneficial factor to follow them. However this inquisitive mermaid was certainly an amusing little creature.

"Will you do nothing for us at all?"

By this point, Alluré allowed her voice to fall in slight mourning and uneasiness, regretting her wish to speak with this Lost Leader in the first place— Even if she hadn't known Peter Pan well enough to begin swooning over him in same the manner her sisters obviously did—she still adored the bouncy, airy melody of his pipes heard from afar while she sun-basked on Marooners Rock beside her Pod.

Rufio temporarily had caught onto the deline in her temperament and through some unfortunate means, felt obligated to test her reasoning. He grunted. "Why would I have to do anything for you?"

"Because...," her tone was peculiarly sweeter, but not sounding any less melancholy, "...that was the way of Pan."

Then within an instant, Rufio was mentally trapped. He recalled all Lost Boys were made aware of the fact that Pan often pacified these fickle fish-maidens with his music or with the so-called Wendy Bird's fairytales he gathered from her... He had done this with the intentions of preventing the Pod from drowning Lost Boys for sheer pleasure and sport. To flatter them, to mollify their episodes of mischief, to keep them on his side.

Consequently Rufio reckoned he would be forced to do the same if he desired large numbers standing behind him whenever challenging pirates. Fewer Lost Boys simply meant fewer victories. Not to mention, it meant fewer ball players. Besides—Pan had said mermaids were exceedingly dangerous to have as foes, but were known to be the finest protectors of their mortal favorites just as well. And he was the current Pan in any case. No questions asked. Whatever Peter Pan's duties were previously had become his duties similarly.

"Would...you...like to hear a song?"

Wetting his lips, Rufio merely expressed the next idea which floated in the front of his mind.

His sudden offering, no matter how inwardly humiliated and unenthusiastic he seemed to provide it at first, had managed to make Alluré smile again nonetheless. She started to groom and braid her hair as she listened to what sounded like a short lullaby in his second language.

...So each time Rufio required a timeout from the chaos and excitement of Neverland, he ventured down the Lagoon alone. And it never took Alluré that long to locate her new "best friend" lolling around there.

She was almost too passionate according to Rufio's inner opinion, though at the least, she proved herself worthy of becoming his private scout. She happily leaked secretive gossip to him so that he could remain one step ahead of the entire island's game.

Alluré also assisted him in escaping a brutal band of pirates on various occasions. As Rufio would trick them into chasing him across the lower rocks, Alluré would pop out instantaneously and tug them in under the rippling surface, clawing at their flesh.


"Here," Alluré piped up joyfully one evening, stretching over the ledge of the boulder to place her random gift before him. "I found this in a sunken treasure chest in the early morn. Put it on."

Rufio already squatting there, coolly took hold of a chain belonging to some type of old, round pendant hanging on its end. It appeared to be purely silver. And simply trying out for size, he let it drop around his neck against the bear claws he'd earned from hunting, and stood to see examine his reflection in the water pool. "Looks good enough?"

Alluré nodded. "Aye, I thought it would."


Thus, everything became what it was.

Rufio had the Lost Boys justly at his feet, had his howling crow increased to a volume and potency which made everyone halt in astonishment. Also he eventually had more than half of the Never Pod attracted to his charismatic management, since his reserved softy-sung songs had caused them to warm up to his steady presence in their territory. All in all, Rufio was acknowledged as the current Pan figure and practically gained everything the previous Pan had all that time ago.

The single thing Rufio couldn't really deal with was Pan's faerie.

Tink had always hovered at Pan's shoulder relentlessly and obsessively.

In reality, Rufio would rather tolerate a spirited-minded Alluré any day and all day, over paying attention to that pocket-sized Neverbug jingle above him for hours... True, Tink could turn a bit frisky when she wanted to, though Alluré had revealed just how decent of an asset she was for him in spite of her girlish habits. She was beginning to grow more into her full fangs and talons these days, seen projected out in her violent state. It was no wonder to Rufio why Pan had made certain the mermaids were his supporters alone.

Rufio told her she could stay not long after he took over, and it was only because a part of him pitied her.

He just couldn't understand why Tinkerbell insisted in fooling herself to thinking Pan would ever return to the Neverland. He was the one who disowned them and abandoned her. Also the island's enchanted laws had transformed. What made her think that Pan could fit in with the great transition he helped cause, anyhow?

Tinkerbell was grateful for this all the same; for she bared no honest desire to rejoin her Reel living up in the mountain glens. She couldn't ever bring herself to separate from the Nevertree Hideaway. It was basically the only home where she felt most valued. Especially by the smallest boys who solely believed from the heart—which of course was very crucial for a Faerie's life force.

But only Tinkerbell recognized the truths lurking beneath the surface of Rufio's being. She simply had been a painful reminder for him—that he was destined to be ever earthbound. Faeries had a much stronger intuition than mortals. And she knew why Rufio could have been a flyer—but equally knew why he never would be. She sensed that Rufio always knew why he was almost the Pan himself too, but couldn't.

Though neither he, nor the faerie were willing to voice it.

People were simply born to be who they were meant to be.

And Peter made the name Peter Pan what it was. Unlike Rufio, who clearly was never quite contented enough with his own name. He spent all his time comparing himself to someone he wasn't born as.

She knew if Rufio continued to live up to another name besides Rufio itself, he wouldn't ever be truly happy.

And as a result, he wouldn't ever fly.


More years ahead, the island's blazing sun rose with a greenish hue flashing on the horizon.

It was an omen for unanticipated things to arrive.

"Rufio, there's news!" Alluré had shouted out to him over and over from the water, till Heart Stopper, Rib Tickler, and Too Small had actually built the courage to enter Rufio's bunk to wake him on their own. They shyly informed their Leader that his main mermaid had been at it the whole morning long.

"What is it?" He growled at her after he climbed down to their meeting spot.

He was still quite tired. It was not even close to midday yet.

"There were strangers in Pirates' Town today. Elder Aquamarina refused to tell me much. She said it's a huge surprise. Although I know Hook's up to something. Something awful. He's stolen someone away from the Outside World, Rufio. Whoever it really is, one of them fell off the plank and was saved by a few of my sisters. They put him into the seashell pulley that lifts up to the peak of your Nevertree. None of us has used that to spare a drowning mortal in decades!"

Rufio opened his mouth to interrogate her further, but once he did, fervent cries from several other Lost Boys ricocheted all the way from round the bend. He knew all too well they must have been after something. Or someone.

Hearing them as well, Alluré refocused on him with eagerness, "You should go and see what all the commotion is all about. I shall keep you posted if I hear anything new." She dived back in, swimming deeper until she faded from his sight.

And Rufio, not feeling necessarily fond of the intense uncertainty radiating off of her, wordlessly sprinted towards the place where he last parked his sail-coaster. He mounted it, and sped down its curving track, heading back home to confront the situation himself.

Certainly it couldn't be anything he wasn't capable of handling...


Thank you for the reader's time. Reviews are welcomed!