A/N: Hello lovely readers! So, I'm starting to write this chapter a day after I posted both chapters 4 and 5. Hopefully I get it out to you guys today, but as I'm starting to get to some parts of the story that I've yet to really figure out, progress will likely be slow. Thank you, guys, for your patience and for your viewership. Once again, while I don't normally ask for reviews/constructive criticisms, I would very much appreciate it if you would indulge me in either of those actions, (or even better, both).
Please enjoy.
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Margaret and the boy continued their frightening flight into the distance as London grew increasingly small, to Margaret's horror. As much as she desperately wished to gain a better grasp of the overwhelming situation put before her, she was too shocked to be able to say or do anything during the frantic flight.
Despite many close run-ins with the cannonballs flying at the two of them, the boy masterfully weaved in and out of the flurry that shot at them, managing to use the clouds at some points to better camouflage the pair.
It was during one of these points of cover that a ball of light shot toward the boy and Margaret. "Oh, there you are Tink! Where were you, I thought you were right behind me!" He said to the ball of light. Margaret blinked in shock, questioning the mental sanity of her current situation. However, the ball of light emitted some high-pitched bell sounds in what Margaret assumed to be a response. "You're right, good idea!" The boy replied, immediately scanning his surroundings quickly.
Finally getting over her shock somewhat, Margaret found the courage within herself to speak. "Um, I'm sorry but you still have not told me what is going ON!" She screamed as the boy launched them into the distance at a frighteningly fast speed. The ball of light kept pace beside them, emitting a distinct trail of dust behind it. As Margaret stared straight forward wide-eyed, she suddenly began to see a form in the distance.
At first, she only thought that it must have been an airplane, or something of the sort. However, as the form grew larger and larger, she began to realize that it wasn't a plane…but it was an island.
"We gotta hurry, Tink, or else the pirates will find the hideout!" He said to the ball of light. Again, the light gave a few twinkling sounds in response, before flying ahead of Margaret and the boy. "Tell them to get ready for the pirates if they come!" The boy shouted after the light. The distant sounds of cannon shots were the only sound that could be heard as the boy began a rapid and frantic descent toward the overgrowth that took over the entire island.
"Um, what are you doing? It seems like we're descending rather fast," Margaret observed, panic gripping at the edge of her voice. The boy remained unresponsive to the panic that Margaret felt, only appearing to go down faster in response.
"We're going to crash!" Margaret shouted as they suddenly came frighteningly close to one of the trees. As Margaret braced herself for impact, they grazed past the leaves, somehow managing to enter into an empty portion of the surrounding jungle.
The boy lifted himself into an upright position as he slowly floated down onto the ground. Immediately upon his feet touching it, Margaret scrambled out of his grip, falling onto the ground in a large pile of dust. She jumped up from the ground as quickly as she could, trying to move as far away from the boy as possible.
"Ok…since we're done…bloody flying, what the bloody hell was that about?! Who are you?! Where are we?!" Margaret demanded as she resumed a defensive position against one of the trees.
The boy took a step toward her, but Margaret snatched a large branch from the ground and pointed it at him, preparing to defend herself.
"You're safe, alright. Just calm down—"
"I will not bloody calm down until I get some bloomin answers!" Margaret retorted in a snappy tone. The boy sighed, as pounding footsteps approached the clearing. Suddenly, a small army of boys burst into the clearing, all of them carrying weapons of various kinds. Margaret raised the branch into a batting position in preparation to fight the group of lads before her. However, before the situation could intensify, the boy held up his hands to calm everyone down.
"Lost boys, this is Wendy—"
"For the last time, I AM NOT WENDY!" Margaret shouted at the group. "AND YOU HAVEN'T ANSWERED ANY OF MY QUESTIONS!"
The group of boys, now to Margaret's knowledge called the Lost Boys, all blinked at her, confused as to the situation they found themselves in. "How is she not Wendy?" One of the Lost Boys asked the boy. "She looks exactly like her."
"Maybe it's Jane," one of the other Lost Boys chimed in hopefully. As the other Lost Boys speculated Margaret's identity, Margaret began to realize that many of these names and…terms were sounding quite familiar to her. Lost Boys, Tink, Wendy, Jane, Hook, Smee. Suddenly, she snapped her head in the boy's direction, gathering a long drink of his appearance. "Red hair, brown eyes, green outfit," Margaret muttered under her breath. Then, she let out a loud gasp, stumbling backward into the tree. Everyone turned to look at her as slid onto the ground, staring at the boy wide-eyed.
"You—you're—oh bloody hell you're Peter Pan!" She exclaimed breathlessly, inwardly pounding herself for not having realized it sooner.
"So, you do remember me now, Wendy?" He asked Margaret hopefully.
"I've told you already, I'm not Wendy!" Margaret told him in an exhausted voice. "My name is Margaret, and I'm Jane's daughter and Wendy's granddaughter," she explained to everyone, highly frustrated they insisted on thinking she was Wendy. Everyone in the group stared at her with their mouths agape. "And, since apparently, you're either real or I'm dreaming, how in the world could I be Wendy? Didn't you have an adventure with my mother?" She questioned the group incredulously. They all thought about the discontinuity for a moment, before looking back at her blankly. "Oh, bloody hell," she groaned to herself, dropping the branch and rubbing her temples with both her hands.
"Well, Wen—I mean Margaret, then why was Hook going after you?" Peter Pan asked her, arms crossed.
"Didn't I just inform the lot of you that my mother is Jane, and my grandmother is Wendy? Hook would be more than happy to carry out revenge on our family through me, since, after all, I'm related to two of the people he hates most," Margaret explained once again.
"Alright, then why are you dressed like that?" Peter Pan questioned further. "Only Wendy would dress like that."
"We were celebrating Halloween at my school…" Margaret began, before realizing most of the boys didn't know what she meant. She sighed, completely frustrated at the stupidity of the group before her. "There is a celebration of sorts that is held somewhere, and our school decided to celebrate it. This celebration requires that people wear a costume. I hope to goodness you lot know what a costume is?" Upon seeing the blank expressions of the group, Margaret sighed and continued on. "A costume is a piece of clothing that you wear to look like something or someone from a different time period or from a story. Anyway, I chose for my celebration to look like a girl from Wendy's time," Margaret finished explaining. The group, while reluctant to accept that Margaret was indeed not Wendy, finally nodded in acceptance after a few moments of thought.
"Ok, so I guess you're not Wendy, then," Peter Pan decided. Margaret rolled her eyes, unamused at the lengthy process it took just to relay her own identity. She could only imagine how inefficient the group was in completing other tasks of importance.
"Yes, since you finally came to that conclusion, I think it best that the lot of you help me get home," Margaret stated firmly. The group looked at each other for a second before Peter stepped forward.
"Margaret, I don't think we'll be able to do that."
"What do you mean? After all, you were the one who bloody flew me here in the first place. You cannot tell me that you cannot fly me back home," Margaret retorted with arms crossed.
"I can fly," Peter said defensively. "But, it's too dangerous to take you home."
"Too dangerous? You must be barmy."
"I'm not 'barmy'. If we were to fly out now, Hook and his crew would be able to locate the hideout. I have the Lost Boys to think about," he explained further, eyeing for the Lost Boys to leave the pair alone for the time being. They took the hint, and quickly slinked into the shadows.
Margaret just shook her head, feeling her face turn stony. "You don't understand. Nana will be worried about me."
"Nana?" Peter asked, perplexed as to who Margaret was referring to.
"Grandma Wendy!" Margaret shouted again in frustration. She took a moment to calm herself down by breathing deeply. "She's old. If I worry her too much, it won't bode well for her health. The last time I made her worry she almost collapsed."
Peter rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, unused to confrontational situations such as this. "The best thing you could do right now is stay here for the time being."
"You were the one to bring me here! I didn't ask to be brought to Neverland; I need to be at home with my Nana!" Margaret insisted. "If you won't help me, I'll find a way to get off of this bloody island myself!" Margaret began to storm off into the thick overgrowth, but was stopped by Peter, who grabbed ahold of her arm.
"I can't let you leave."
"Let go of my arm right now! I've asked you many times and you won't help me. Nana needs me; I can't abandon her!" She said, beginning to fight against his grip. Peter wrapped his arms around the best of her body, causing a loud and vocal protest from Margaret. "LET ME GO! YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS THAT BLOODY PIRATE! I SAID LET ME GO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME STAY HERE! NANA NEEDS ME! DO YOU HEAR ME?! MY NANA NEEDS ME!" Margaret screamed as she thrashed against Peter's grip. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed in fear for her grandmother.
The Lost Boys quickly reappeared with the ball of light, who Margaret guessed was supposed to be the fairy Tinkerbell. The fairy approached Margaret quickly to where she was close enough for Margaret to gather a firsthand look at the fairy's appearance. The fairy was just as her grandmother described: blond hair whipped in a bun, pale skin, hot heated, and of course, she adorned that green little dress that Nana had always talked about. Had Margaret been in a different situation she would have been in awe of all of these details. However, she was too busy trying to get off of the island that she couldn't have cared less.
Suddenly, an overwhelming sleepiness fell over Margaret, as she realized that a load of pixie dust had been unloaded on her, though the purpose of the pixie dust was unknown to her at this point. Her frantic thrashing slowed as she became increasingly drowsy. She suddenly lost all of the energy in her legs to stand, feeling herself begin to fall to the ground. Instead of the hardness of the ground, she was felt with the softness of another person catching her. Margaret scarcely had time to look up and make out a blurry figure with red hair looking over her before her eyes closed and she fell asleep.