A/N: Tick, tock, tick, tock… * twiddles thumbs * Good? Bad? Don't care? Please review, I'll force Felix to bake cookies and wear a frilly apron for you guys!

Old Intro: This has got to be the quickest I've ever updated... I feel really awful about not continuing IDA, but it was unavoidable. Here's Chapter Nine for you beautiful people. ;)

"Hook?" I echoed, confused. I trailed just slightly behind him as he darted through the thick foliage.

"Killian Jones." He muttered, hoping to clarify. We broke from the trees and into a dead sprint for a strange set of eerily lit caves across the sand. My feet sank with each step, and I struggled to keep up. The toe of my boot caught on a rock and sent me sprawling in the fine-grit, almost-white powder and dropped the hood. With an impatient growl, Peter yanked me to my feet. I wouldn't snap about how it hurt my arm because there was a heavy cloud of tension in the air, and I knew he wouldn't tolerate my 'insubordination' with Neverland at war. Something told me that anyone near Peter was in danger at this point and time. "Come on, Trinket. Honestly, it's like you've never ran for your life before." A hint of amusement hid behind the condescending tone as we started again.

Within a few minutes I was being tucked behind a large boulder up a close-to-the-wall slope that overlooked a large pool fed from the ocean. A large chink in the ceiling let moonlight wash the water in a hazy silver color. Peter shoved the sword I had dropped into my hands (god knows where he got it, as I didn't recall seeing him pick it up). "Stay here. Don't make a sound."

"You are staying, too, aren't you?" I demanded, my eyes wide. Peter shook his head once, amused with my child-like concern.

"Bad form for the King to hide during battle. It's cowardice, and I will not give Killian that to dangle over my head. Now," He lightly smoothed the top of my hair, his hand trailing down my face to cup my chin. "Keep that pretty little head of yours down and don't move. Pirates will be the least of your worries if they find you." Smirking, he studied my face for a moment before disappearing. I shivered at the sudden cold breeze in the air and the ominous hint in his words. My face felt on fire where his skin had touched, but I rubbed it coarsely, trying to dilute the feeling.

Why can't I fight? I've proven I'm capable! Why does he insist on tucking me away?! What doe she mean 'least of my worries'? Is he planning on throwing me to mermaids if I wander away? I grumbled to myself, crossing my arms and resting them over top of my knees. I leaned my head against the rock wall. The floor was smoothed from countless footsteps, and a thin layer of sand made it a surprisingly-comfortable resting place. Despite the strange poultice Peter had given me, I was still sore all over. The wounds had closed magically, but that couldn't take away the pain entirely. I rolled my neck to try and remove the crick in it to no avail.

At some point I felt my eyes slip shut, promising myself a small nap. I stayed in that cramped position for another few hours till the sound of whispering bouncing off the cave walls roused me. I peered in a gap between the boulder hiding me and the one to my back, my gaze darting over the area till I saw a pair of tall silhouettes near the entrance.

"Are you certain he wouldn't hide her here, lad?" A celtic man's voice rumbled. A glint of silver obscured his hand from view.

"She's in his hut. Alexander was taking her there when you blew our cover." A young voice growled in annoyance. My eyes caught a long stave with a sharp tip and sandy hair. Andrew? Was he a traitor?! I had thought Peter would have been too vigilant for something like that to escape notice, but the proof was right in front of me. I slowly drew a quiet breath, closing my eyes to hear better.

"It was one of my men." The adult barked, a hint of anger in his voice. "If you want off the island and that girl taken care of, learn your place, lad. Remember who's in charge here."

"Excuse me, Captain." Andrew sneered as their voices faded away.

I resorted to pinching my arm every time sleep came close, not wanting another close call. I had a bruise steadily growing when Peter suddenly appeared in front of me after the cannons ended. I hadn't heard much of anything for a good while, so I supposed the fighting had drawn to a close. "Time to go, Trinket. On your feet." I took Peter's outstretched hand, blinking my eyes to remove some of the fuzzy sleep clouding my thoughts.

"Andrew was here. He had a man with him." I yawned, unsure where the sharp wave of dizziness and disorientation came from. A sense of security surrounded me the longer Peter held my hands.

"Andrew?" He growled, narrowing his eyes. "What did this man look like?"

"I-I couldn't tell," I shook my head. "He was t-taller than you... Shorter than Felix..." I mumbled, pressing the heel of my palm to my eye. "Sounded funny... He had silver on his han-nd..." The world was going dark, rippling faintly -a lake at midnight on a moonless night round the edges of my vision. My grip went slack on his hand, letting gravity start pulling me down. If Peter hadn't caught me my head would have split open on the boulder that had provided my sanctuary. What I didn't see was the faint smirk around his lips, the glint of energy in his eyes when I mentioned a silver hand.

With a soft exhale he scooped me up -one arm under my knees and the other under my shoulders. "You need to rest. I've forgotten how quickly little dolls like you tire..." I wanted to yell that I wasn't little, for one, and for another that I wasn't tired. Something definitely didn't feel right. I shouldn't be collapsing like this. After all, I had slept a lot today -more than any other day I was conscious on Neverland. All that came out was a low humph from the back of my throat as I struggled to wiggle out of his cradling arms. Peter's mouth twitched at the corners while he carefully adjusted his hold, so I could lean on his shoulder easier. "Just go to sleep, Trinket. You have had a very trying twenty-four hours."

I wanted to shout at him for thinking this was funny. I wanted to cry because something was seriously the matter with me. I wanted to kill whoever kept making this happen. Most of all, I wanted to lean into the crook of his neck and sleep off the painful throbbing in the back of my head, the blood pounding in my ears. Maybe if I just take a nap... Peter said I need to sleep... He'd know if this was magic-induced, right? I reasoned in my mind. For the third time in a short while I let my eyes slip shut. For a long while I just let him carry me as I wavered in and out of consciousness; hazy, I focused on his steady breath and smooth strides. It was quiet in the forest, so for a moment, I pretended that Peter wasn't some evil, vindictive demon that relished in my pain. I pretended that we were back home in my village with its lovely, rolling green hills and castles in the distance. I pretended for a moment that Peter actually cared for me, and it was one of the happiest pretends I had ever had.

Of course... You always have to wake up.

Shouting from outside was accompanied by loud cheering and stomping. I rubbed my eyes to remove what my mother had called 'sleepies' from the corners. Peter had carried me the entire way to the tree that I had woken up in what felt like months ago (in reality it couldn't have been more than a week or so). I pushed the blanket off impatiently, my blood humming with adrenaline at the commotion overhead. My feet pounded the twisted, cramped stairs as I reached the upper level. The small table was still there, accompanied by the chairs, and a new lantern rested atop the oiled surface. A small rectangle of parchment was folded in half and tucked under the base. I frowned, crossing the tiny room in a few paces and plucking it off the table. Neat, black ink scrawled over a good part of the creamy parchment. My index finger hooked around the handle of the lantern, dragging it closer.

Trinket,

Your brief information concerning Andrew was most helpful. I trust you enjoyed your little cat nap? If you're reading this it means the spell finally wore off, so come up, but for the sake of my sanity put on the shirt I left you. The one you are wearing presently is rather ragged. I'd hate to have anymore of my Boys breaking rules today, and we wouldn't want that blood on your hands, would we? You will be attending the bonfire tonight with everyone else as usual. I expect a good performance from Andrew, so be silent and don't let on that you know anything of what I say. Act as surprised as the others and he shall be too angered at being found out to notice you. Be prepared for a show. Neverland has not seen a spectacle as this in some time now.

Pan

Bewildered, I ran my fingers over the looping way he wrote his capital 'P' and the soft roll of his 'n', the fluid way my nickname looked. It reminded me of home with all of its majesty and swirling letters. Living just outside the well known kingdoms of King Leopold and King Henry, I often spent time in the hills and woods, enjoying a short word with travelers concerning their adventures. One that I saw most introduced himself as 'Will'. His stories were what interested me the most -other than his strangely thick accent. He spoke of Merry Men, blue caterpillars, Red Queens, and how girls whose names had an 'a' always complicated things. Being he only knew me as DeLune this wasn't insulting. He always seemed to be so full of mirth and stories.

My gaze fell to a lump of dark green fabric with golden stitching, pulled to the present. I tossed my own tattered peasant blouse on the chair, tugging the identical-in-style shirt over my brown tank top. It fit surprisingly well (better than my own), making me wonder how Peter obtained such measurements. Shaking my head, intrigued once more, I stuffed the letter in my pocket. The noise had escalated to a dull roar. The door swung open at my slightest touch, revealing the source of the ruckus.

It appeared that all the Boys on the island had gathered in the clearing around the embers of their burnt out fire. I had yet to see them all assembled at once; it was a striking number of no less than thirty-five. The youngest looked to be six or seven with the oldest being Peter and Felix at approximately eighteen. Blaze and Alexander were among the closest to Peter's age. Andrew's hands were bound in front of him, his hair stuck up in tufts, and he bore a long bloody cut along his bare forearm courtesy of the red tipped blade in Peter's hand. I was hit once more by the ferocity in his emerald eyes, the wolfish aspect to his smirk.

Every Boy was shouting at their former comrade's weakened stature. Insults, threats, names, rocks. Everything they had at their disposal was hurled at Andrew hard enough to leave abrasions on skin and break bone. A rogue stone skittered past Andrew's shoulder and nearly clipped Peter. His long fingers ensnared the item before I could blink; he began rolling the smooth piece in his hand like a toy, like a trinket. Peter tossed it into the air once as Andrew continued to absorb the assault of his former brethren before tossing it to me casually. Instinctive, my hand shot up to clasp the projectile before I had anymore bruises.

A/N:

Old Outro: I had so much inspiration for this chapter. I've been working on it for a couple days, deleting, rewriting, etc. Here it is! Next chapter should be coming out soon as I'm almost on summer break! Thank you so so so much to everyone that has favorited and followed this story. Also, a big big thank you to EverRose808, Shinigamidemidragonslayer99, selenastarsparrow1230, Izora Calla Rahl, BW-H-IM-CA-H-T, animeluver1827, and angelx420x2000 for adding me to their author's list! It makes me unbelievably happy that you guys enjoy my writing enough to do this. It means more than I can say. I love all my lovely readers; you guys are wonderful! Bluemoon, over and out~