One day, Hook had an epiphany and decided to become a good man, and a father to the Lost Boys. Peter was disgusted so he flew away in order to grow up himself, and become the new pirate captain so he could terrorize Hook and his converted adopted Lost Boys. Peter had grown up a lot now and it was almost time to return home. In the meanwhile, he had kept himself busy by having sex with a woman named Moira and creating two children, Jack and Maggie. He hated them all. None of them could fly or fight. And for this he especially hated Jack, who Peter considered to be a poor male specimen. He always compared Jack's easy urban life to Neverland and said "you would not have survived."
Today Peter made Jack balance on the outer window sill of his bedroom, and while the boy screamed in terror, Peter jabbed at him with his sword, missing on purpose and laughing just to watch Jack dodge with his poor, desperate footing. The neighbours saw Peter flying but knew not to say anything and went indoors with their heads bowed. From inside, watching through the window, Moira screamed for Peter to stop while she cradled a crying Maggie.
Peter found it very easy to ignore his wife because he knew he could batter her. Instead he taunted Jack. "Just fly, what's the matter? It's easy!"
"Dad you know that I can't!"
"Then how about you fight back?" Peter pushed his sword into Jack's hands, and exposed his chest. "Stab me! Come on son, kill your old man! Kill me before I kill Maggie!"
Jack held the sword up with trembling hands, but then cried, because he was weak. Peter slugged him in the stomach and watched him drop. Moira rushed downstairs, weeping over Jack's broken body as she called up the hospital, and in doing so she had left Maggie upstairs alone. Peter spotted his tiny daughter, and the corners of his lips curled up.
The next month, there was a school play about Peter Pan, and Maggie would be performing in it. Peter didn't want to go but it would be a good for the social workers to see that he was taking an interest in his daughter's affairs, and he knew they were spying on him, so now they were driving to school. Everyone in the car was deadly silent. Jack was still cast in many bandages, the hard types that people wrote messages on. Peter had wrote a lot on them himself. Whenever they reached a speedbump, he drove faster to make the car bounce. He knew that Jack was extremely tender and the rough bounces made him wince. Sometimes Moira opened her mouth as if to object to these bounces, but Peter would always look severely at her, and maintain the cold gaze as he drove over the bumps. He didn't stop looking until Moira looked as if she was about to cry.
The play was shit. None of the children were good actors, so Peter kept booing and heckling, and telling them none of it was what really happened. Some of the kids were so offput that they stopped performing, looking uncertainly at their parents or teachers. Early on, one of the bigger fathers tried to have a stern word with Peter, taking him by the shoulder, and Peter was deeply disturbed by this, turning with a thunderous look. Left right goodnight. Nobody else bothered him after that and Peter was free to keep on harassing the children. In the end he had a wonderful time, and was happy to say so on the drive home.
"Oh, do you mean it?" Maggie asked in a whisper, with all the forgiving and adorable air of an abused dog who was ready to make peace and be happy. "I practiced so hard because the play was all about your life! I love you, daddy!"
The car skidded to a halt.
By the next month, Peter knew that the social worker spies had snitched on him, because police were obviously watching the house. To throw them off, he made a big show of promising Moira on the front lawn, where everyone could see, that he would not hurt her or the kids again. She broke down weeping and hugged him. Later that night though, a SWAT team raided the house. Peter dispatched them all silently from the shadows like a Vietnam soldier, and then woke his family and dragged them to the airport. At last, the time was right to return to Neverland. First this meant flying to London and giving Wendy a visit, because he needed her help to remember the directions.
Years ago Peter had intended to leave his wife and kids behind to die on the streets when this moment came, but he hated them so much these days that he wanted specifically to take them to Neverland so he could feed them to the giant crocodile. Jack could walk now, though with crutches, which Peter took advantage of. He hollowed one of the crutches out and hid his sword inside of it to sneak it past security.
Maggie was in much worse condition. The state of her was so horrific that she needed to be wheeled around in a harness like Hannibal Lecter. Peter thought it would be funny to treat her as luggage and kept trying to make the airport staff take her seperately, but of course they didn't, which Peter got extremely huffy about. He had the last laugh, though; once onboard he stored her in the overhead compartment when Moira wasn't looking, and the other passengers who noticed were meek and didn't say anything. It was the kind of compartment that closed over, and knowing that his daughter was claustrophobic and had a limited supply of oxygen made Peter giggly.
Moira wasn't giggly. She had a fear of heights, and had reserved seats for them nearer to the middle, but Peter forced her to sit by a window. Now she was white as paper and shining with a sickly cold sweat.
"Do you know how easy it is for this thing to come down?" Peter asked her. Moira didn't answer. She just closed her eyes, and brought a hand against her forehead. "Well it's this easy: all it takes is for a bird to fly into the turbine. Birds naturally stay away from airplanes because I bet you can imagine how frightening they are from a birds perspective, but it can happen. Just one bird who's brave or stupid or flown off course by strong wind."
Still she didn't engage with his cruel mockery. Peter was fed up. He grabbed an air hostess who was walking by and asked rudely, "are we nearly there yet?"
She was smiling, extremely professional even though he had groped her thigh and was still holding it. "I'm sorry sir but we still have several hours. Would you like any refreshments?"
Peter shrugged and made a scene, shouting and pointing at her about how the refreshments would be shit, like peanuts and water. After she walked off though, Peter called after her for some peanuts and water after all.
Wondering how to entertain himself next, Peter began molesting Moira's breasts, who was too withdrawn to at all react. Peter liked it this way. It was as he was about to pull his little champion out that he heard a strange, plastic clicking above. Peter looked up to see a miserable creature, cast in bandages - it was Jack, rescuing Maggie from the overhead compartment.
Peter gave him a solid rising uppercut to the chin, and as the boy fell into the center aisle, the open compartment swung shut and Maggie remained trapped inside. Peter locked it tight. Somehow, in his stiff suit of bandages, Jack rose to his feet to face his father, who had stepped out into the aisle too.
Peter wasn't angry. He was delighted at his son's testicular display, and right away provoked him for more. "Standing up to me huh, is that it? Gonna rescue your sister? Gonna be a big man and rescue your sister, is that it Jack?"
Jack was shivering. He didn't respond, but he didn't break eye contact either. So Peter stepped closer, and as he had done some weeks ago, exposed his chest. "Go on then, big man."
Jack raised his crutch. A fair bit of the crudely hidden blade poked out from the tip, like a small dagger - enough to pierce one's heart. Peter stepped even closer, letting just the tip of the blade pierce him. Relishing the fear in Jack's eyes was what helped Peter endure the pain, and the trickle of released blood. "Looks like your old man's done half the work for you, Jack. Is that how it's gonna be forever? Come on... come on! Kill me! My blood is my bond!"
"Yeah, junk bond!" Jack said, and with a surprising shout of fury, he drove the blade forward. Into nothing. Peter was already behind Jack, hands ready to do damage. He could have snapped the boys neck in an instant, and nearly did, but remembered the crocodile and how much better it would be to watch Jack die like Quint. So he just dislocated the boys shoulder instead. Jack shrieked in agony and fell writhing to the floor.
By this point the mild passengers were distressed enough to call awkwardly for the air hostess, and Moira had come out of her fearful, ill stupor. Immediately she noticed Jack on the floor, and saw Peter standing proud and bloody. "No Peter, you promised! No more of this!"
By way of response, Peter opened one of the doors. In an instant there was a deafening crash of sucking air, and all the nearby passengers were pulled from their seats, screaming but then gone like fast passing motorbikes. Jack was one of the first to go, and Peter hopped over him in a silly way and giggled at Moira, who reached after him in hysterics. Further up along the aisle, the air hostess was scrabbling to stay alive, but with nothing to hold onto she was quickly lost to the suction hole, too. Peter caught the bag of nuts and bottled water she let go of and began enjoying them. Even though he was standing right by the door, Peter was unaffected.
Everyone who remained now was gripping what they could, white knuckled and apparently screaming but the sounds were drowned out. All the overhead compartments were rattling like the coffins of zombies waiting to be unleashed, and eventually they started popping open, heavy suitcases flying out and crushing skulls. While Peter enjoyed his peanuts, Moira looked about desperately for Maggie, not knowing where she was hidden. Peter laughed so hard that he could actually be heard over the crashing air.
Soon he got tired of the noise and was about to shut the door, when Maggie's compartment flung open, and she came flying out towards him. Peter couldn't stomach the blow and was knocked out of the plane. Letting Maggie fall to the ocean in her wheeled harness, Peter flew back up, but somebody had shut the door. He couldn't believe it and had to follow the plane himself for the rest of the flight. To make himself feel better, he chased after nearby birds, grabbing them fearlessly and trying to toss them into the turbines, but it wasn't easy to throw birds and when he eventually did get one in there, after a satisfying burst of feathers and gore, the plane did not go down after all.