I actually want to start this off with a little personal note!

I've NEVER shared fanfiction online, nor have I ever really gotten into any one fandom enough to be inspired to write something. This has been a really great experience, and it totally surprised me. All of the interactions from you readers has made this something I really look forward to writing. You truly are the cause that keeps me motivated to work on this! Without the kind comments and encouraging messages, this would have easily been a one-off short story, lost and collecting dust in an obscure folder on my computer. As a matter of fact, because of the random Hook x Maggie fanart I posted to my DA page, people asked for a link to the story, and frankly, it only existed in my head at the time! As passing daydreams! So, to everybody who has shown interest, this story exists and continues to unfold because of you and your inspiring enthusiasm!

I'd really like to give my most heartfelt thank you to all of you for subbing and sticking with me on this little journey of sorts! Here's to many more Neverland adventures!

Chapter 14

The room which Smee presented to Maggie, or more or less plopped her into before turning tail and leaving quite quickly, was small and creaky, but somewhat furnished. She heard him heading for the door, and found it hard to convince herself to bother talking to him. In truth she wanted to lie down and fall into some serious sleep. The idea of even opening her mouth seemed far too taxing. The simple bed in the corner called out to her, a hazy ray of sunlight hovering over the quilted bedding, pointing. Beckoning. Her intense connection with the bed was broken when she heard the rattling of Smee locking the door behind her. She turned to observe, and caught the final motions of the spotty gold knob jostling a bit before it stopped, followed by Smee's footfalls plodding away.

She had been taken to the second story of a rather worn out building, a block or so away from the Jolly Roger. They had gone up an uncomfortable flight of stairs to get there. Her legs had cramped up, finally calling it quits for the day, and she could feel their disgruntled aches with each step she took. They were like cement blocks beneath her, her weight becoming an absolute burden to carry for much longer.

Maggie could hear voices from outside. She slowly made her way to the window, and rested her palms on the worn out sill. She looked down into the busy street below, observing the tops of hat clad heads, decorated with grungy feathers, going by. There were many curious people out there, all going about their apparent business. Though, whatever that was, none of these 'citizens' of Pirate Town looked to be incredibly reliable, like a ton of teenagers dragging out a day at a retail gig. What do these shits do all day anyway? She looked farther out and saw the Jolly Roger gently rocking on the water. Maggie frowned, thinking about how Hook must be striding around on the ship, patting himself on the back for the hell he had successfully put her through. From this room, however, Maggie could almost pretend he didn't even exist. Perhaps she wouldn't even have to see him again. Sleep all of this weirdness away. Wake up in her apartment with a dry mouth and a dizzy head.

"Whaaat the fuck ever." Maggie groggily mumbled as she finally trudged her way to the bed. She popped her boots off using her toes, wincing a bit as she did so. She successfully removed the shoes and left them laying helpless on the wooden floor. Then, feeling as if it were the one thing she had ever truly wanted, she fell onto the bed. A tuft of dust billowed out around her, sending little flecks floating into the warm ray of sunlight that came through the window. She exhaled, with an audible moan. Every part of her relaxed. The blankets were cool against her hot, swollen feet and aching legs. It was almost euphoric. She fell into a deep slumber only mere seconds later.

Meanwhile, In Seattle:

Rosie opened up the trash bin and tossed in the remains of her devoured TV Dinner. She had been running low on groceries for a decent meal come lunch, but had several low cal frozen dinners hiding in her freezer. They tasted like ripe shit, but she'd have to restock her cupboards after work. There were a handful of patients scheduled today, leaving her little to no time to dawdle. She sped walked back to her office, pulling the bobby pins out of her hair as she went. It was getting frightfully nippy out, and they had neglected to turn the heat up in the building that morning. Her ears felt like little ice chips. Hair down it is then!

The metal sill of her large office window was lined with various, thick leaved house plants and a collection of resin frogs. Rosie adored frogs. If you took a look around, you'd easily count around thirty or so, of all types, placed around her office. It had gotten a bit out of control, and was more of a joke with her friends and coworkers now. There wasn't a birthday or Christmas that went by where everybody would go out looking for frog themed things to gift her.

Her appointments came and went throughout the early morning, and as nine o'clock rolled around, she was ready for one of her more enjoyable patients. Maggie Banning. Rosie looked forward to her visit more than usual today, seeing as her eight o'clock was Lester, a middle aged man who believed he had a severe case of MPD, one of his alternate personalities being a cocaine snorting hamster.

Nine o'clock quickly became nine thirty. Rosie had arranged her ballpoint pens twice now, and sat, gazing at her analog desk clock blankly. "Where in the world is that girl...?" She flipped through her appointment journal to make sure she had the time right. Indeed, Maggie had been jotted down for nine sharp. For a moment, Rosie reluctantly thought that perhaps Maggie had relapsed. As much as she hated to assume the worst, many people with similar problems had a rough time climbing out of the theoretical hole they had fallen into. Rosie's patients would sometimes just stop coming altogether. No closure provided. People that once sat in her office to hash out their addictions would soon throw in the towel, never to return to the frog infested office ever again. It was unfortunate, but not uncommon. She wanted to have all the faith in the world for each of her patients, especially the lost young ones. She had been one herself once.

Rosie began to lock up for the night but there was just something so odd to her about the no-show on Maggie's part. She knew she was alone out here, her parents living several states over. If anything, Rosie felt it best to dig up Maggie's emergency contacts and pass along that she had been absent. Rosie got back into her office, pulled open her file drawer, and removed Maggie's folder. Peter and Moira Banning were listed in her contacts. She dialed them right away.

"Hello?" A breathlessly hopeful voice answered. It was Moira.

"Hi there, this is Rosie Leesand. I'm calling about your daughter, Maggie?"

Moira cut in right away, a bit frantic, "Oh yes, do you have any idea where she is?"

"Unfortunately I don't! I was calling to let you know she didn't show up for her appointment with me today."

"...Ohh no. No. Where could she be then?"

"So, she hasn't contacted you? We met up last week, and she seemed in good spirits when she left. I was worried when she didn't come in today." Rosie replied.

"Yes, she called me after her appointment last week. We talked about her coming over and I've been trying her on her phone all day...She was supposed to be here by now! God, Rosie, please. Could you go to her apartment for me? Please! I'm so incredibly worried..." Moira's voice wavered.

Rosie hesitated a second, "Ah, yea. Yea. I can do that. I have her address on file, I'll see what's going on and get back to you right away." Rosie hadn't intended to get so involved, but at the same time, it was worrisome that this was unusual to Maggie's mother. Rosie was the only one close enough that knew her to go check in. She wasn't going to sleep tonight knowing Moira was in shambles. She didn't know her personally, but she remembered the hell she had put her own mother through in her younger days. She felt this was a responsible move.

"Thank you so much, Rosie, really. Truly."

Rosie pulled into an unmarked parking spot at the Evergreen Creek apartment complex. In the 330F space sat Maggie's Honda. Must be home. Rosie trotted across the freshly tarred pavement, and up the staircase. A dirty welcome mat lay crooked in front of Maggie's door. It read, "Nice Underwear."

Rosie rapped on the door and waited. Nothing. She tried again, but was greeted with similar silence. She was about to leave, when somebody spoke, "Do you know the girl who lives here?" The irritated voice came from behind her. Rosie squawked and spun around. "OH! My gosh." She lightly placed her hand up to her heart. "Yes, I do. Do you know where she might be?"

"No! She's my upstairs neighbor! She destroyed her window the other night, scared the shit out of all of us! We swear we saw somebody fall from up there! Bunch of drunken idiots." The irate woman spoke. "Listen, whatever the hell she's doing in there, can you tell her the next time any of that weird shit happens again, I'm calling the cops! I already reported her to the office."

"Y-yea. I'll pass that-" but the woman had already retreated back down a flight of stairs. "-Along." Rosie spoke quietly to herself.

Rosie was curious about the window. She went back down to the base of the complex and walked around to the backyard. She looked up to the third floor and saw that the window was indeed shattered. Glass fragments lay scattered in the grass and bushes below. "What the hell happened...?" Rosie felt a wave of concern. Maggie didn't seem like the vandalizing type. This certainly didn't look like the work of an intruder either, what with it being so high up. What DID happen?

Rosie got out her cell, and unfolded the photocopy of the Banning's number. "Moira? I think we may have a problem."