"Billy… wake up…"
Jukes moaned and tried to open his eyes. That effort hurt too much so he tried to roll over and ignore the voice that kept persisting.
"C'mon, Billy! Get up!"
"Go 'way, Peter," he mumbled irritably.
"Aww… has the poor chap gots a hangover? 'E needs ta take his medicine, then," Peter mocked in Mullins's voice. "Come on," he continued in his own voice, "I want to go ashore, but father says someone has to go with me. Tag, you're IT!" Peter held out the mug of coffee he had brought. "I've got a whole pot here. Or you can take Cookson's cure. Either way, you have to get up."
"Take someone else," Jukes whined. His head was really pounding, and he felt nauseous. My Lord, what a night, and what a fight. How'd I get back to the ship?
"Okay, but you still have to get up. If I take anyone else, you have to take their place loading supplies."
"Alright…gimme a sec," Jukes sighed. Slowly he eased himself out of the hammock, swearing softly. He stumbled behind Peter as they made their way to the galley, then sat at the table. He took the coffee from Peter and took a sip.
"Whiskey?" he asked when he tasted it.
"Just a bit. Enough to get you going."
"I love ya, man. Yer a saint," Billy sighed and took another sip. He heard Peter chuckle, but he still couldn't open his eyes past a squint. After about half the cup was gone, he tried again and found that he could tolerate the light. "Wow, Pete, that's a good shiner. And I thought I had a good fight. Who gave it to you?"
"Father," Peter said simply. "We had a fight so I slept in the crow's nest for most of the night."
"Peter! Ya should'a come down here!"
"I know - that's what the Cap'n said. I had another nightmare, so he had to come up there and get me." Peter and Billy confided in each other about everything, and there were few secrets between the two. Actually, the only secret that wasn't shared was Peter's past, and Billy had made it clear that it was the only one he'd ever keep from his friend.
"I'd ask what it was about, but I'm sure you don't remember. In case the other men ask, how do you feel now?"
"Damn sight better than you," Peter relied with a grin.
"I believe you," Billy groaned and finished his second cup of coffee. "So, what do you want to do?"
"Well, even with the fresh supplies, I'd rather eat breakfast at an inn…"
"I'll say."
"So," Peter continued, "We'll go to the Red Lion and eat."
"Lovely place," Billy said, "Good food, but a bit expensive."
"My treat, Billy. After that, I want you to lose me for the rest of the day. I'll meet you back at the Lion around noon."
"Cap'n was pissed last time I "lost" you when he said you weren't to be alone," Billy warned.
"He isn't going to know," Peter said doubtfully.
"I don't want to lose any more hide off my back, Peter."
"So I'll tell him I ditched you. But he doesn't have to know anyway. I'll meet you in the afternoon and we'll take in the town."
"Okay, but if I get a beating, then I'm taking it out on you," Jukes warned.
"You're bigger and two years older, but I can still beat you in a fistfight."
"Yeah, right," Billy challenged good-naturedly.
"Don't make me prove it again," Peter stood. He had a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Again? Anytime we scrap, the crew steps in and the Cap'n finishes it."
"I had you beat, you just didn't know it yet."
The two teens glared at each other for awhile longer, then broke into laughter. They shook hands and made their way to the deck.
"MR. JUKES!" the Captain yelled when he saw the boys.
Billy winced, as much from the dread of the next words as from the pain the shout gave his hung-over head. "Ay, Cap'n?"
"I expect you to watch Mr. Hook's back while you are in town. Mr. Hook! I expect you to do the same. Keep a sharp ear and eye for anything suspicious, and make sure you don't draw attention to yourselves. I don't want a repeat of the last time we docked here." Hook walked up to the two and continued in a lower voice, "Billy, give Peter some time to himself today. If he decides to take to the woods, let him go alone. You only have to watch each other in the city. I'm sure you both were planning to do this anyway. I'd rather not have to punish you before we sail, so I'm giving you permission."
"Thank you, sir," Peter and Billy replied. How does he always seem to guess when I'm planning to do something? I know he can't read my mind.
"Off with you, lollygaggers! Be here before midnight!"
"Ay, Ay!" and with that both teens were running down the gangplank and across the dock.
Later that morning, Peter was making his way deep into the forest. He had a great sense of direction, and preferred not to follow any trails. He was happy. He was finally alone, walking on solid land and breathing fresh air.
Peter had managed to secure a free breakfast for himself and Billy. He had picked a gent's pocket and made a fairly big haul. It was enough for them both to eat like lords and plenty left over for Billy to use to buy a trinket for one of the waitresses that had caught his eye. Jukes had decided to return to the Red Lion and keep the lass company while she waited for the lunch crowd and he waited for Peter.
After an hour of wandering, Peter finally found a good place to rest. Even if he wasn't needing a rest, he would have stopped here. It was gorgeous. Old oaks bordered a small open area. The ground was green and fresh with grass and moss, with a few wildflowers in the sunnier spots and mushrooms in the shade.
Peter made his way to the foot of the largest oak. He noticed a wide ring of mushrooms surrounding the tree.
"How odd. It adds to the charm, though." He carefully stepped into the ring (he didn't want to disturb anything) and sat with the trunk of the tree against his back. He relaxed and closed his eyes for a bit, breathing in the smells: wood, damp, flowers, earth, grass, and the underlying scent of all old forests – decay. Here, Peter felt more at peace than he ever could on the Jolly Roger. This was natural and comforting. He opened his eyes and listened to the birds and insects and the wind in the branches. I've missed this. If not for father, I would stay here forever.
Peter suddenly felt an inspiration and brought out his pipes from beneath his coat. He had few things from his life before – his pipes, his dagger, his earring and his name were all. Billy had given him the pipes and dagger and told him that he had been keeping them safe for him. Hook had not been happy about that, but had let him keep them.
Softly, slowly at first, Peter began to play. He didn't play any song in particular, but let the notes flow naturally. Soon, he was completely immersed in the melody. His eyes closed and he stood, still playing. His whole body swayed with the music, and he became oblivious to everything else.
After the first few notes, the area fell silent. Most of the wild animals left, alarmed at the human nearby. A few birds, squirrels, and butterflies stayed behind and listened. They stared at the human below, sniffed his scent, and listened enraptured at his song. A few of them settled into the elder oak above him. If Peter hadn't been so engrossed, he would have heard and understood their whispers.
"Who is this human? I can smell fey magic in him."
"Impossible! We aren't allowed to enthrall a human anymore, or to magic one."
"But he plays fey music! He has to be enthralled. Or he's not human. How else could he know Aral Nietova?"
"Could he be a Neverboy? Or from one of the other Islands? There's something of the mists about him… there's a spell on him!"
"Can't be a Neverboy, Tam. Those kids don't leave the Isle, not since Pan died. 'Sides, he's too old to be a Neverboy."
"He's older, but he's still not a grown man," the squirrel named Tam paused. "He looks familiar, though."
"Well I don't know," a butterfly remarked. "I can't tell one Man from another."
"I've seen him before," a cardinal said suddenly. "He comes to the forest every once in awhile, last time was about eight new-moons ago. I didn't stick around, and I certainly didn't hear him play. I wouldn't have heard him now if he weren't sitting in our Grove."
They listened to the rest of the song in silence. When Peter finished, he sat back down at the foot of the tree. He felt good, but a bit spent. He had poured out his heart in the song, and he wanted to enjoy the lighter heart while it lasted.
In the tree above the boy, Tam began to shake his tail. Golden flecks of dust drifted out and fell towards Peter. Peter began to blink and yawn, and his head started to feel like it weighed a ton.
"What are you doing?" whispered the bird.
"I've got an idea, and he's going to take a nap while I find out. And when he wakes up, he'll be as fresh as if he'd slept for a week." He looked at the bird, "Gleana, go find Dria. She was one of those born of Pan's first laugh. Bring her here."
"You think that's Pan?" Gleana asked incredulously. She looked at the now sleeping boy. "He's too old! Besides, Hook murdered Peter Pan!"
"They never found his body and he never joined the Lady in the Nether-realm. Go get Dria and she'll settle it. But I do believe it's him."
The bird flew off. The remaining animals moved to where Peter lay, bolder now that the youth was in an enchanted sleep. Slowly they changed, becoming an assortment of wood-elves, gnomes, and pixies. One of the pixies alighted on his knee.
"He smells like a man. He smells like a pirate. But…," he paused, "I don't know. I smell Neverland on him. And there's the spell. It's strong, got him wrapped up tight. No one's supposed to have put something that strong on a human. Not for a long time, not since Kaylee."
They continued their discussion while they waited. None of them had ever seen Peter Pan, but they knew Neverland. Neverland was one of the Sanctuaries, one of the seeds around which the mists of fey magic were gathered, and it was the oldest. Anything that had ever lived there would still carry a bit of the magic with it, which the fey that still inhabited the mortal realm would recognize. Pan was born in the mists, born with the magic his mother had been bestowed, and he carried some of that in his blood. They all felt that this human had that trait, but they also felt a wrongness about him that made them suspicious.
"I heard Tinker Bell felt him go, and the Lady herself awoke and wept when she felt him ripped away."
"They found some cloth from his clothes, with his blood on it. They saw Hook and his men celebrating, Pan's blood on his claw."
"Why else would the evil man leave Neverland, unless he'd gotten his vengeance."
"If this is Pan, then how did he live? How did he get here and no one knowing he was alive? And how could Nibs replace him if he didn't die?"
"It can't be him, they searched the pirate ship so many times and never found a trace of him."
"Peter Pan!" came a cry. A small pixie with blue hair wizzed to the boy. She landed on his shoulder and danced in happiness. "Oh it is you, it is! What have they done to you?" She stepped back, then flew to his knee where the other fairy stood. All the other fey were whispering excitedly. More were coming to see the child they had thought gone forever.
"He's grown up," remarked the elf, Tam.
"Not completely, he's in the twilight of his childhood still," Dria answered. "There's still hope for him."
"Do you know what this spell is?" Tam asked, "I know the Never-fey enchanted him, but this seems strange."
Dria frowned as she felt out the magic that was entwined about the youth. "It's a forget-me spell. After the Lady and her wards were killed, Peter was the only N'avarean left. The Never-fey put it on him and made him forget everything… he was so sad that Neverland began fading, and then he tried to kill himself. He fought us and he almost broke the enchantment. Because of that the spell had holes in it so that he kept forgetting stuff that happened afterwards, too. But it seemed to work better that way anyway, so we left it alone." She gasped suddenly. "It's wrong! It's been changed somehow. How could this have happened? Only a Never-fey's power could affect the forget-me spell."
"Should we remove it?" Tam asked, concerned. Fey magic was unpredictable at times even to the fairies, and to learn that a spell had been warped was serious cause for concern.
"By the mists! No! We don't know what the spell is doing now. And I sense another spell, beneath the old one. It's… I don't know… it's slippery somehow, I can't touch it long enough to know anything other than it's there. Removing one could change the other, they could be intertwined somehow. Or removing one could remove both. Unless we know what both are doing, we dare not touch them." She shuddered, "And I hate to think what would happen to him if he got his old memories back. He may try to harm himself again, or he may even go insane. We have to leave it alone for now."
"So what do we do now? We can't let him get away from us again. We may never find him."
"No," Dria said, "I won't let him go. We need to let Tinker Bell and King Oberon know we've found him. They will know what to do." She turned to the pixie next to her. "Lyla, go to Tintagel and tell the King. I'm staying with Peter so we don't lose him again."
"But that's dangerous. If you get caught…" Lyla didn't say what could happen, she didn't want to think of the ways humans could exploit a pixie if they caught one.
"Go," Dria said, giving the other pixie a small pouch of her dust. "You can find me with that, and where I am, Peter will be. It's a long journey, do you remember the Way?"
Lyla nodded, then took to the air to make to flight to the fey-realm.
Peter sighed and began to stir. The fey creatures scattered and Dria alighted in the tree next to Tam. Both changed into their animal forms and watched as the boy awoke.
Peter yawned and stretched. Wow, I feel great. Usually I have to be ashore for days to feel this good! He felt peace within himself, and could feel his body tingle. He closed his eyes and knew, somehow, there was a squirrel and a bird in the tree above his head. He knew the oak he leaned against had stood for over five hundred years. He knew that this place was special somehow, that it pulsed with life more richly than any other place in this part of the forest, and that he would always be welcome here.
That's how it always was for him… he'd get an acute sense of living things once he was rested. He'd thought for a long time it was only his imagination, until he'd tested his senses and found the things he somehow had known would be there. It added to his confusion about who he was and why he was different, but he accepted it as a part of himself.
Peter smiled and stood up. He turned to the tree and winked at the bird in the branch. The squirrel was hiding from him. "I give you my thanks, friend oak, for your shelter while I rested." He bowed deeply and stood again. "I hope that the next time I put to port here, you will let me find this place again and take my rest beneath your boughs." He didn't seriously think the tree could hear him, but it never hurt. Besides, he felt so extraordinarily wonderful and whole right now, he wanted to thank someone for the blessing. The weight was lifted from his heart, and all his worries were far away. Even his face didn't hurt anymore, and he idly wondered if the bruise was still there.
If I could sleep like that every night, I'd live forever. He frowned suddenly. By the sun, it was just after noon. He picked up his pipes and started to jog towards town. He wasn't too far away, so it wouldn't take as long to get back as it took to get out here. He didn't notice that the bird he'd winked at followed him the whole way into town.
Peter found Billy at the same table he had left him at. He gave his friend an apologetic smile and said, "Sorry I'm late."
Billy never looked away from the waitress. "Hmm? Back so soon? Peter, me bucko, I'm in love!"
Peter glanced at the waitress across the room who was sweeping the floor. No one else was in sight. "With her?"
"Yeah," Billy sighed, "Evelyn. Smiles like an angel, eyes blue as the sea."
"Billy?"
"Hmm?"
"I think she's married."
"What?" Billy looked at Peter, alarmed.
Peter burst out laughing. "Just kidding. I wanted to see if you were paying attention. You are so gullible sometimes."
Billy glared at the other boy. "Tell me quickly why I shouldn't kill you."
"Because then you'd be the youngest crewman, and you'd get to double as the cabin-boy."
Billy blinked, "Oh, right. Yeah that sucked before. Thank God I'm good with machines and blowing stuff up or I'd have had to kill myself a long time ago."
Peter chuckled. "I wonder why Father hasn't taken on a new cabin-boy. I'm getting a little old for this."
"Well, he hates kids for one thing - present company excepted," Billy grinned, "Two, he can keep ya close this way. It's easier to spend quality time with his son without showing favoritism. Three, there's no way you're grown-up enough to be trusted with any other position. You play too much sometimes."
Peter flushed, "You were the ship's gunner and blacksmith since you were ten. Why is it different for you?"
Billy sighed. "I grew up a long time before I was ten. Good thing, too, or I'd have ended up on the point of you Dad's hook. Captain Hook has no patience for anything childish… it's a wonder you lived to see sixteen."
Peter ignored the inevitable questions that he loved Jukes too much to ask and changed the subject. "I'm just lucky I guess. It's my natural charm and boyish good looks."
"Yeah you just keep your charm and looks off of Evelyn. The only downside to going to taverns with you is that it's nearly impossible to get the wenches' attention when you start flirting."
Peter rolled his eyes, "Did you ever think that maybe it's because you get too drunk?"
Billy waved to Evelyn and looked back at his friend. "Maybe. Or maybe it's because I want to see you get lucky, so I stay in the background and pray that one of the girls will get more from you than a pinch or a kiss on the cheek."
Peter was going to say something rude in return, but by that time the waitress was there to take their lunch order. By the time Billy quit flirting (Peter remained quiet and restrained himself from being charming) and the woman left to give their order to the cook, the borderline argument was past and the two teens chatted about harmless things. Peter didn't miss that Evelyn was wearing the locket that Billy had bought earlier that day. A girl in every port.
After lunch was over, the two teens went shopping. Peter, as usual, needed new clothes and shoes. It wasn't that he kept outgrowing them – he always bought them a bit too large so he could have room to grow. Getting rips and stains in his clothes were a part of being a sailor, and every man on the ship sported patches and stains in their attire. But Peter was the son of James Hook, and he'd learned to be fastidious in maintaining a proper wardrobe. Peter tolerated stains and patches when he was at sea, but he wouldn't be caught dead in a town unless he was wearing his best clothes. Billy preferred old clothes. They were comfortable and familiar, and he could do his work without fear of ruining a shirt (when he actually wore a shirt). Billy also didn't like waste, so now that Peter had caught up with him in size, he usually appropriated Peter's old clothes when the boy replaced them.
So the two of them wandered through the shops and the markets, examining clothes and cloth (both boys could tailor their own shirts if they needed to), shoes, hats and jewelry. Peter snagged another wallet while they shopped, so they had no fear of the prices the merchants charged.
Peter was testing the weight of a fancy yet practical sword when Billy called him over.
"Hey! How about a new earring?" Jukes pointed to a large gold hoop.
Peter fingered the ruby stud in his earlobe. "Nah. I like this one. Father gave it to me."
"Hey, I designed that stud, and short of cutting, that thing's not coming out of your ear. I meant you should get another hole. A little variety never killed anyone, you know."
"I prefer to save my money," Peter replied and turned back to look at the sword again.
Jukes nearly dropped the parcel he was carrying. "Who are you and what did you do to Peter Hook?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "Hey, I have to start thinking about the future."
Billy put his hand on the hilt of his dagger. "Ok, now I know something's wrong."
"Gee, you really do think I'm useless don't you!" Peter growled and began to stalk away.
"Hey!" Billy trotted to catch up to his friend. "Since when do you take me seriously when I'm picking at you?"
"Well," Peter said as they continued walking, "Father had a talk with me yesterday. Do you want to be a pirate for the rest of your life?"
Billy jerked Peter into an alley and pushed him against the wall. "It won't matter what I want if you say stupid shit like that in public!" he snapped angrily. He looked to the opening of the alley and sighed when no one seemed to notice they were there. "You'll have us dangling from a noose by sundown, me dumb bucko!"
Peter waved him off and straightened his jacket. "Well, we're alone now. Do you want to be a pirate for the rest of your life? If you do, you know your life will be a lot shorter than it could be."
"Even shorter if I keep hanging around with you," Billy muttered angrily. He gave Peter a hard stare. "You know my answer. I'll stick with Mullins. When he no longer pirates – most likely when he's dead – then I'll find something else. There's always work for a smith, and I could probably get a good job designing guns… I've got some great ideas."
"Father says I need to consider what I want to do. He said if I wanted to go to a university, he'd send me. He said you're smart enough, you could go too."
"Sounds stuffy and boring," he smiled. "Maybe I'll just find a few nice, good-looking girls and a deserted tropical island. I'd start a new nation and be the king. I'll have no worries and could spend all my time inventing things, and no-one will laugh at my machines."
Peter smirked and walked back out onto the street. "Yeah and when your kids grow up, they'll all be brothers and sisters. They'll revolt and leave the island."
Billy poked Peter in the ribs. "You could come live there too and bring your own women. We'll split the island." And I'd never fear for anything with you around. You survived on an island for years untold, and managed to look after a pack of kids while being hunted be a ship full of pirates.
"And you think I'm short-sighted? All of our grandkids will be first-cousins!"
"Hey, I can dream. Let the damn brats fend for themselves," he chuckled. "Seriously, I'd just find work somewhere else. Hell, once I claim my shares I could set up a business. Mullins is like my father, and I won't leave him any more than you want to leave your dad."
Peter nodded. The thought of being away from his father for a little while was appealing. The thought of life without his dad scared the hell out of him. He seriously didn't think he'd be able to cope with losing the only family he had. "It's something I have to think about, though. Unless I finally slip up one day, I'll outlive the Captain by a long time. I have to make sure that I can survive losing him."
Billy looked at Peter but stayed silent. They all wondered if Peter would live through it. The men that had been in Neverland knew how the spell bound Peter to Hook, and they all dreaded the day that one or the other would die. Billy had a flash of memory: Peter in chains, lying on the deck and screaming while Neverland tried to rip itself apart. That had been when Hook had taken Peter away. He knew that the pain his friend had suffered through then would happen again if Hook died. He just didn't know if Peter would recover. They were all pretty sure that if Peter died, the same would happen to the Captain. As a result, the crew watched both Captain and cabin-boy close, knowing that if they lost one they could lose both.
"Don't worry, Pete. As long as you have me, you'll be just fine."
Peter smiled, "I know," and the two teens continued to enjoy their day of freedom.
Dria flew from roof to roof and listened to the boys chatter. Pan, talking about the future, planning to go to school! What happened to the carefree, forgetful little boy who gave me life with his first laugh?
Just before midnight, Jukes helped a very intoxicated Peter onto the ship.
"Mr. Jukes," came the Captain's voice from the shadows, "what is wrong with Mr. Hook?"
"Drunk, sir. Passed out in the bar, but he's mostly awake now."
"I thought you were the lush and he the one that carried you home."
Billy chuckled nervously, a bit hurt by the captain's description. I don't always get drunk, but when I do I go all out. "Well, not tonight. He's been in an odd mood all day. Happy and relaxed, but odd. I didn't want another hangover, so I let him do all the drinking."
Peter laughed suddenly. "Ahoy, Mr. Jukes," he called in Hook's voice, "get me another drink or I'll cleave you from stem to stern!" He giggled and almost fell when he tried to step away. Hook caught him and looked at Jukes.
"He's been odd, but in a good way," Billy continued. "He's been happy, playful, and exceptionally full of himself. Had a couple of barmaids fawning over him. He even took one upstairs, but he wasn't up there but for about ten minutes. Came down and got in a fight. It started with fists but then Peter pulled a knife. I thought he was actually going to kill the guy, so I broke it up. The other lout left and Peter decided to get shit faced… err.. pardon me sir – he decided to get drunk."
"Did he get some time alone?" Hook asked in concern.
"Ay, sir. He spent the morning in the woods. Came back a whole lot better."
Hook leaned Peter back on Jukes's shoulder and clapped the gunner on the shoulder. "I wanted him to have more time, but we have to sail in the morning. Put him in his bed, and get some sleep yourself. I'll need you both tomorrow." He watched as Billy led the nearly unconscious boy to the Captain's cabin, lost in thought. Took a wench upstairs… tried to kill a man… got drunk? Has he decided to grow up then? He's rushing it, too much at once. Hook smiled, though. Perhaps Pan is gone for good now, and my son can live in peace.
Dria sat on a yard-arm high above. She couldn't hear what the men below had said, but she didn't care. She was too busy staring at the tall Captain. That's Captain HOOK! This ship is the Jolly Roger! Has that fiend had Peter this entire time? We looked! I helped search this ship myself for two days! We all felt him ripped away, felt him die. How did Hook do it?
She didn't want to go near the deck. This whole ship stank of men and evil deeds. She especially wanted to avoid Captain Hook. But if she wanted to know what was going on, she would have to get closer. When no-one was in sight, she flew down. She looked about for a bit and finally found a nook above Hook's window, perfect for a perch and out of sight. She spent the rest of the night making it into a comfortable nest.
"Peter! Wake up!"
"Go 'way, Billy!" Peter growled as painful consciousness returned. He buried his head under the blanket to hide from the light.
"Ah… revenge," Billy cackled. "All the times you unmercifully roused me to a morning of excruciating pain, throbbing head and heaving stomach. Get up Peter. Cap'n's orders! We sail today. Two Navy ships due in port this evening, we'd like to be well away by then. All hands on deck and all that."
When Peter didn't stir, Jukes yanked the blanked off the boy. He grabbed Peter by the ankle and dragged the boy off the bed.
"Son of a – ow!" Peter cried as he hit the floor. "Have a heart, Billy!" he whined as he tried to sit up.
"I do, Pete me bucko, but not for many," Billy replied as he helped his friend up. "I don't want to see you flogged for dereliction of duty. And I don't want to have to battle a navy ship today." He sat Peter down at the desk and gave him some "special" coffee.
Peter finished the first cup before he could even open his eyes. "Billy, I'll never tease you about your hangovers again," Peter swore.
"So – how was she?" Billy asked.
"She? Who?" Peter was confused.
"Millie, the wench you took upstairs with our birthday money!" Billy reminded. "C'mon, you weren't drunk when you went up, so you can't have forgotten. I'm your best friend, so you have to tell me."
Peter reddened a bit, "She was ok. Did what I paid her to do."
"You weren't gone long," Billy said slyly, poking Peter in the ribs.
"It didn't take long."
"Sorry, man," Billy grinned, "It'll get better with time and experience."
Peter downed his second cup and didn't reply. I didn't actually lie. I was going to… with her… but I couldn't. Peter remembered going to her room and blushed. He had wanted her, badly. They had kissed and fondled each other. He'd even seen her topless. But his panic had risen along with his need, and he had pushed her away. He apologized, then paid her extra for her silence. She had apparently really liked him and was a bit hurt by the rejection. He used his usual charm and a bit of lying to smooth her over and make sure she would stay quiet about what happened. They had talked for awhile longer until Peter though enough time had passed. When they came down he was angry with himself for his inability and frustrated, so he had picked a fight. The unfortunate victim had been a nice enough chap that had been drinking with them, and had made a crude remark about Peter being back so fast. Peter had taken the insult to heart and beat the shit out of him. He'd wanted to kill the man, hoping to get relief by spilling blood.
"Thanks, Billy, for stopping me last night."
Billy knew what Peter was talking about. "The guy was drunk. I knew you'd beat yourself up over it later. I was merely defending your conscience while it was away. But you're welcome."
Peter lied, though Dria, he didn't lay with that woman. He came out of that bar the same as he went in… just drunker. Dria was relieved that Peter hadn't crossed over last night. To find him and lose him all over again would be too much to bear.
Crossing over… that was when a human child grew up and fully embraced adulthood. Sex in itself didn't cause a crossing over – there were many children who weren't virgins, and many virgins who weren't children. Crossing over was when a child in his heart began calling himself a man (or herself a woman). Peter equated being a man with having sex, no doubt a result of listening to the lewd tales the other sailors would tell… and their promises to buy him a whore and "make a man out of him". Once he crossed that self-imposed hurdle, he would truly grow up. Some humans never grew up, no matter how old they were physically, but those eternal children were so rare they were nearly a legend. Frowning, Dria realized that this one named Billy Jukes was also still in many ways a child. I wonder what his crossing point is?
While the two boys chatted and Peter got his feet back under him, Dria settled down to eat the breakfast of bread and cheese she'd stolen from the pantry.
