Billy came to with great effort.  His head hurt so much he wanted to die.  He groaned, protesting awareness and prayed for any sympathetic deity to grant him unconsciousness again.  This can't be a hangover… it hurts too much.

"Lad," Mullins whispered.  "C'mon, open yer eyes.  Show me yer okay."

Billy heard the worry and quit trying to go back to sleep.  "Robert?" he said weakly.  He opened his eyes to slits and was relieved that there was only a candle's worth of light in the small room.  In the dim light he could make out the mustached face of his oldest friend.

"By Pew's deadlights, boy, don't scare me like that ever again!  I didn't think ya'd ever wake again," Mullins growled softly, fighting back tears.  "Yer th' closest thing to a son I got.  I'd die if I lost ya."

"Was there an explosion?" Billy muttered, remembering waking like this once before long ago.  "Or did a yard-arm fall on my head?"

"Yer so-called friend punched ya," Mullins snapped.  Then he sighed and put a wet cloth on Billy's cheek again.  "Peter's gonna need ya, lad.  Hook's tole 'im th' truth."

"What?" Billy gasped.

"Aye, that's why th' boy was so pissed.  He lashed out at ya.  Cap'n said he had to tell.  He's talked with those of us that were in Neverland.  Said there's a pixie aboard, and the whole island knows we got Pan.  So Hook's decided he should be th' one that comes clean to Peter."  Mullins shrugged a bit, "I can't blame 'im, he owes it to th' boy.  Peter's takin' it hard, though."

"Neverland's found him?" Billy whispered.  Dread filled him.  They can't have him back!  If they know…they'll seek justice.  They'll come for us, and for…  Billy frowned.  Who else?  He felt something stir inside him, a memory of something dark and unpleasant.  He was too dazed and disoriented from his injury to understand as the seed in his mind awakened and began to take root, spreading its tendrils and taking control.

Mullins continued to rattle on, telling Billy what Hook had told them.  He didn't notice the change in the boy's eyes, the way they hardened and glittered.

"Mullins," Billy interrupted, his voice steady now.  "I'm still tired.  Would you let me alone for a bit?  My head hurts."

            The older man smiled.  "Aye, lad.  I understand.  I gots ya in one of th' other cabins, away from th' noisy lads.  You should sleep fine here.  I'll check on ya in th' mornin'.  There's some food fer ya on th' table there."  He gave the boy a light pat on the shoulder and left him to rest.

Billy sat up and looked around.  The pain in his head didn't bother him now.  It was muted, distant… like it was happening to someone else.  It didn't matter.  She's been found out.  It's too late to save my Mistress.  But I have to make sure her vengeance is maintained.  Neverland can't have him back – one way or another, Peter Pan is not going back to that island ever again.

Billy stepped into the brig and stared at the boy lying in the cell.  Peter was facing the wall, seemingly asleep.  Billy cocked his head to the side and sniffed.  Pixie, the thing whispered to him.  He quietly crept to a stack of crates in the corner.  The crate on top was empty and lidless, and when he looked within he saw the small winged girl was fast asleep.  Stupid little bug, he thought and very gently touched her on her head.  She gave a soft gasp but soon stilled again.  Sweet dreams, he thought as he lifted her up and dropped her inside a small pouch.

Peter heard the noise when someone entered the brig, but he didn't bother rolling over to see who it was, preferring to pretend to be asleep.  But then he heard Billy's voice, calling for him to wake up, and he sat up quickly.  Peter winced at the sight of his friend.  Billy's left eye was nearly swollen shut and his cheek looked like he had cloth stuffed in that side of his mouth.  Billy's dark skin was bruised and ugly.

"I'm so sorry, Billy," Peter told the boy, hanging his head.  "I shouldn't have hit you."

Billy stared at him, sizing the boy up.  Both he and his mistress preferred Peter to live, so he wouldn't kill him, yet.  "What do you remember?"

Peter shook his head.  "Nothing.  Father told me things, but I still can't remember any of it actually happening."

Billy smiled, or at least he tried to.  The injured half of this face was too swollen to respond much.  "If you throw this much of a tantrum from just being told, yer gonna to be really fun when you remember.  You're dangerous, yer a powder keg with a lit fuse."  Billy unlocked the door and tossed a sack on the floor.  "We're still moored, we weren't going to set sail till mid-morning.  You should be long gone by then.  I've packed some food for ya."

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked in confusion. 

Billy glared at him and Peter drew back at the malice he saw in his friend's face.  "Leave, Peter.  Go away.  It's for the best, for everyone.  When you remember, you're gonna hate him.  And you'll try to kill him.  Trust me, when you become Peter Pan again he's gonna remember why he hated you.  You wanna see that?  You wanna see your father look at you with hate in his eyes?  Remember back when he put his hook in your shoulder?"

Peter did, and he felt sick at his stomach.  'I'll rid myself of that damned brat!' his father had screamed.  He remembered the pain and the fire in Hook's eyes.  "Yes," he said weakly.

"You'll hate all of us, all of us that helped him take ya.  Can you kill your father?  What about Mason and Mullins?  Smee?  How 'bout me?"  Billy touched his face and sneered.  "Well, I can see that one easy enough.  We can't trust you.  I can't trust you.  You should leave before you make things worse.  We'll all be happier once you're gone."

Billy's words cut him to the bone, and Peter was overwhelmed by grief.  He's right.  They'll be better without me.  I hurt Billy, what will I do if I remember?  "But this is my home," he said in protest.

"Go away, Peter.  The crew don't want you here and you're dad's gonna feel the same way soon too.  Go while ya still got more good memories than bad ones.  This is the last time I'll offer," Billy drew his dagger.  "You're not my friend anymore."

Peter's jaw dropped for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed in anger.  I expected you to be upset, but I never thought you'd be so heartless.  Were you pretending to be my friend this whole time? Does no one here actually care for me?  "Fine.  Take care, Mr. Jukes."  He picked up the food sack and made his way to the main deck.

Billy stood by the cell and watched Peter leave, smiling wickedly.  Then the light dimmed in his eyes as the control left him.  Soundlessly he crumpled to the floor.

Frantic, persistent pounding on his door brought a very irate Captain Hook out of his slumber a few hours before dawn.  "Peter?" he mumbled, wondering why the boy didn't answer the knock.  He felt an oddness inside himself, and he remembered that Peter had shut him out.  The pounding continued and he got out of bed, flinging the door open angrily.  "What the devil do you want?"

Mason stood there and the expression on his face made Hook's blood run cold.  The big carpenter was afraid.  "We found Billy passed out in th' brig.  He's barely breathin' and he won't wake anymore.  Found her in a pouch beside him."  He held up his hand and showed Hook the tiny girl lying in his palm.  "Can't tell if she's alive or not, she's so little.  We're guessin' she's th' pixie you tole us about."

"Did Peter see her?" Hook asked, worried.

"Dunno, Cap'n," Mason backed up a step, then another.  "Pete's gone."

Hook stared at the man for a moment.  "Pardon, Mr. Mason?"

"Peter's gone.  Brig was open.  A dinghy's missin', looks like he took it and went ashore."

Hook advanced on the man menacingly.  "My son's jumped ship and no one on the watch noticed?  How did he get out of the brig?" he bellowed.

"Looks like Billy went ta visit 'im.  Pete must'a knocked him out ta get th' keys," Mason kept stepping back.

Hook seethed in anger.  He basked in the rage, letting it fill and consume him.  Rage he understood.  It was a familiar, comfortable feeling and was more useful by far than the fear that threatened to paralyze him.  "Ready the longboat.  I want a score of men to accompany me on a hunting party.  Give me the pixie and let me know when Jukes awakens.  Mullins and Smee are exempted from this expedition, they're to stay here and help the gunner.  I want to be ashore at dawn!"

Hook stood on the shore, staring at the boot-prints while he considered his options.  Behind him the sun was breaking the horizon, casting his shadow across the narrow strip of beach.  The missing dinghy had been beached here, and the wayward boy's prints led from it into the trees. 

"I want two men to remain here in case Mr. Hook comes to his senses and returns.  It could be he's just sulking right now.  If he comes back, I want him put in chains and tossed in the brig."  He split his remaining men into groups and sent them in search of Peter. 

For hours they combed the immediate area, returning to where they landed for lunch.  The break didn't last long, not with Hook growling and pacing, pausing only to stare thoughtfully at his hook, then continue in his pacing.  Most of the men did like Mr. Hook, and wanted to find him… but their fear of the Captain Hook was their biggest motivator.  But none of them caught sight of the boy.

Peter lay still on tree bough and watched the noisy men below.  He'd known Hook would look for him; jumping ship was a serious offense.  No one crossed James Hook and got away with it, not even his own son.  But I'm not his son… It occurred to him that Hook may consider him an escaped prisoner.  That's what he'd really been all these years, Hook's captive in an invisible cage.  Shut up! he told himself.  He loves me… and that's why I have to stay away, so we won't hate each other.

When he'd gotten ashore shortly after midnight, he'd been exhausted and his head had been killing him.  But he couldn't stop because he knew they'd come for him eventually.  So he'd fled aimlessly into the forest, stopping when he'd found this tree.  It had been inviting, friendly in some way.  It was very old, it's branches thick enough for him to lie on comfortably.  So he'd climbed it in the dark, finding this crook in the boughs perfect for sleeping, and allowed his body to rest.  For a wonder, he'd not had nightmares (Probably too tired for them) and had only awakened because of the search party below him.

So Peter lay still and watched the three men.  They really weren't even trying to find him.  They crashed through the forest, laughing at each other's crude jokes and complaining about having to waste their time hunting for Hook's whelp when they could be on their way to their next catch.  Peter glared at them angrily.  Whelp?  I'll show them who's a whelp when I…  Peter took a deep breath and calmed.  These were newer men, they'd not been aboard long enough to know better.  But their next words caught his full attention.

"Ya think th' Cap'n'll flog 'im?" the largest man growled.  "'Breakin' outta th' brig, jumpin' ship, and nearly killin' Mr. Jukes."

"He ought ta hang the brat!" the second man snapped.  "If'n it were one o' us, he would."

"Ain't gonna hang 'is own son," the first man snapped back.

That's when the third one laughed.  "But he ain't his son.  The cabin boy's his prisoner.  Ain't you heard?"

They stopped walking and stared at the third man.  Peter leaned forward from his perch, wondering what he'd hear now that the crewmen weren't forbidden from talking about him.  "No, we ain't heard that," the second man said in confusion.

"Well, I heard Cap'n talkin' to Mullins, Mason, and Starkey.  From what I heard, he had a grudge against the boy and stole him from his parents or some such.  Made him his cabin boy fer spite.  They fought or something and he hurt the kid, that's why Peter lost his memories.  Apparently he remembers what Hook did ta him in his nightmares, which is why 'e screams so much in his dreams sometimes.  And it seems that Hook made him believe he was his son, as a final joke on th' kid.  Talk about one sick bastard."

The first man swore softly.  "I lissened to 'im one night when I had the watch at the wheel.  Wonder what Cap'n coulda done to make anyone scream like that."

"Ya ain't seen one o' 'is executions yet.  Cap'n Hook has a cruel streak, can be downright evil if 'e's pissed.  Probly be better if th' boy ain't found.  Hate ta see what Hook could do ta 'im this time," the second man said worriedly.  "Cap'n's pissed right now, sure enough."

The men resumed walking, listening as the second man recounted a particularly brutal execution he'd seen, last time some dimwit had tried to mutiny.  Peter waited until their voices faded away and the forest sounds returned to normal, then quickly shimmied down the tree.  The conversation rang in his mind, filling him with anger and fear.  Yes, Hook could be very evil when he was angry.  If he makes me remember, and I become this Pan person again, what will he do to me?  If he hates me again, he will kill me.  But his anger was even stronger than his fear.  'Hook made him believe he was his son, as a final joke on the kid,' the pirate had said.  Captain said he did something to me that made me forget.  Did he hurt me somehow, some way that was so bad I made myself forget everything?  He said he used magic… what kind of magic and what did it do to me? 

His resolve to leave strengthened and he took a moment to consider his options.  He knew there were towns nearby, they came to this stretch of coastline often to sell the cargo they stole and to buy stuff to smuggle.  Peter looked up at the old tree he'd slept in and gave a bit of a bow, feeling foolish but compelled to complete his little ritual.  "Thank you for your shelter.  I hope to find my way beneath your boughs again one day."  He paused and lowered his voice, "Don't tell anyone I was here, okay?  Those men are looking for me."  Chuckling softly to himself for his childishness, Peter made his way silently through the trees towards his destination.

Nightfall came and the pirates returned to the longboat empty handed.  Leaving two men ashore on the off chance Peter would return, the shore party rowed back to the ship for a late supper and rest.  All the men in the longboat with Hook remained silent, avoiding the Captain's glare.  Once they were back aboard, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when the man went straight to his cabin.

Hook's shoulders sagged when he was safely out of sight.  He took a moment to check on Dria, but the pixie lay still on the feather pillow he'd left her on that morning.  She lived, after some effort Hook had detected her breathing and he hadn't been able to find an injury on her.  With no idea of what was wrong with her or how to help, he'd left her on the pillow and prayed she'd sleep it off.

There was a light knock on the door and Smee slipped in.  "No sign, Cap'n?"

"No sign, Smee," Hook answered, removing his hat and cloak.  "He's not coming back, I can feel him getting more distant.  It's rather odd.  I hadn't realized this, but we've never been more than a few miles apart, not in all the time since I abducted him."

Smee helped his captain undress.  "I been checkin' on th' wee lass.  She stirred a bit a few hours ago, but she dinna wake."

"How is Jukes?"  Hook really wanted to know what had transpired in that cell.  Kaylee claimed Pan couldn't get out completely, but what if he did?  What if Pan had taken over and attacked Billy?  But if that had been the case, what happened to Dria?  Hook couldn't see the boy attacking a pixie, he'd want her to take him to Neverland.

"'E's not so pale, breathin' steadier.  But 'e ain't stirred a bit.  Mullins's keeping 'im in that cabin and gots 'is own hammock in there.  Refuses ta come out fer 'is duty, so we let 'im be ta see wathcha want us ta do with 'im."

Hook found he couldn't fault the man.  Odds, bobs!  I must be tired if I'm willing to let him get away with shirking his duties.  But he understood why Mullins was worried.  "Leave him alone and see that someone brings him his meals.  As much as he thinks he hides it, it's been obvious for years that he's fond of Billy.  It would have meant the world to the boy if Mullins had broken down and adopted him, but they love each other like any other father and son.  He's pardoned from duty until Billy's fit enough to not need nursing, and I want you to help him tend the lad so he can get some sleep from time to time."

Smee chuckled a bit, the sound tinged with sadness.  "Ya must be awfully worried, Cap'n."

"I'm upset, Smee.  What if something happens to Peter?  He doesn't remember how to live on his own!  He has nowhere to go and no one to help him!  Gall and brimstone, Smee, remember the last time he came up missing?  What if he falls in the hands of another pedophile?  I found him and Jukes in time before, but I might not if it happened again."

"I think th' lad's old enough not ta attract that lot anymore.  I pity the soul that crosses him in 'is current mood."  Smee wrung his hands as a different set of scenarios crossed his mind.  "What scares me is what if th' wee lad crosses th' authorities?  Peter Hook's wanted as sure as 'is father is, specially since 'e kilt that bailiff ta bust ya outta jail."

Hook froze.  I didn't think of that, he thought fearfully.  That incident had happened only fifty miles or so south of here, after one of his contacts double crossed him and got him arrested.  Peter had led a small rescue party and freed him the night before he was to be hanged, and the boy had killed the bailiff in the escape.  Strangely, Peter hadn't been bothered much about the killing, and Hook had been too angry at himself for needing rescuing to bring up the incident again. 

There were two towns nearby, one ten miles south, one twenty five miles north.  Peter would surely head to one of them.  The boy loved the woods, but he was spoiled to beds and hot meals when he was ashore.  The southern town was larger, easier for the boy to pinch a purse unnoticed in, and it had several inns to choose from.  The northern one was smaller and further away, but it was safer.  Peter had been to both towns before, Hook had contacts in both that Peter had met.  "Please, Peter, go north," he whispered as he sat at his desk.  He wrote two letters, using vague and coded words his contacts would understand.  Basically he told them to keep and eye out for his son, to apprehend him unharmed and send word if they found him.  He made it clear there would be a reward if Peter was returned to the ship.

"Smee, find me two fast lads.  I'm sending one to Allencourt and one to Durst's Port.  If they're too tired, see if the promise of gold will wake them up."  While Smee was gone, Hook poured a glass of rum and tried to banish images of Peter hanging at the gallows.  I'll raze the entire town if they harm my boy.

When Jeff Lorton and Kevin Smith came to his cabin, Hook's spirits rose a small notch.  Peter was friends with these two, but not nearly as close as he was to Jukes.  These lads looked up to Peter, even though they both were older by a few years each.  They'd do their jobs well for their friend's sake.  He gave each of them a letter and a small sack of gold.

"Peter and I fought.  You all know that.  He's upset at me and rightly so.  But I haven't finished explaining things to him.  The local authorities know him and he'll be hung if he's found.  I need you to find him first."  He explained to each lad the men they were supposed to contact and told them how long they were to wait.  The gold he'd given them would feed and lodge them for a month.  They set out that night and Hook retired knowing he couldn't do anything more at the moment.  For the first time in a long while, he said a prayer before he went to sleep.

Dria screamed as she finally clawed her way out of her dream and back to awareness.  She sat up in fear of the darkness surrounding her, and her glow flared as bright as she could make it.  She frantically looked around, trying to find the demons that had pursued her. 

"Gall and brimstone, pixie!  Dim your light!" Hook growled.  Her scream had awakened him to blindness and after the previous day, he didn't need anything adding to his headache.

In surprise, Dria complied and turned to stare at the man in the bed.  She'd awakened on a pillow in a chair next to his bed, but the last thing she remembered was falling asleep in the brig.  "Captain Hook?" she called softly, her voice unsteady.  She was still afraid of the things that had pursued her, and she felt like something foul and slimy and been mucking around inside her mind.  It made her nauseous.  She began to cry, shaken to her core.

Wonderful, Hook sighed to himself, a hysterical pixie.  At least now she can tell me what happened, if I can calm her down that is.  "Hush my dear," he called soothingly.  He sat up and put out his hand for her to climb into, then lifted her up.  "Bad dream?" he asked, recognizing the signs easily from years of helping Peter through his own nightmares.

Dria nodded, wiping her eyes.  "The monsters were going to eat me!  And she wouldn't stop laughing at me!"

"She, who?"

"I don't know!" she wailed.  "An evil woman, laughing!"  She forced herself to calm, repeating to herself that she was safe now.  Compared to the dream, Hook was a welcome sight and she had no qualms about being in his hand.  "How did I get here?"

"Peter's missing," Hook informed her.  He told her about Mason finding Jukes and her in the brig, and how they'd searched the mainland all day looking for Peter.  "What happened in the brig?  How did Peter get out?"

"I don't know.  Peter was going to sleep, so I decided to go to sleep too.  I woke up here."

"Damn it!" Hook growled.  "Can you use your magic to find him?" he asked hopefully.

"That's a silly question!" Dria snapped.  "You're the one that masked him from us!  Of course I can't find him with magic, or I'd have done it when you first took him!"  She took a moment to think.  "There aren't many fey nearby, mainly a few wood-elves, a dryad or two.  But I can rally them to look for Peter.  Just because we can't sense him doesn't mean we can't watch for him.  Once we find him we can follow him and make sure he's not lost again."

"Can you go now?  Are you recovered enough?" Hook really wanted her fit.  Peter had an entire day's head start on them.  If he didn't stop at the next town, he could be anywhere by tomorrow.  Hook shuddered to think of all the places Peter could go if he went inland.  He was counting on the boy's need for familiarity to keep him in the costal towns.  If I find he's signed on to another ship, he's going to watch me sink it after I loot her and arrest him.

Dria hovered for a moment, and was relived to find that her nausea and fear were receded enough for her to fly steady.  "I'm fine now, so I'll go.  Don't sail anywhere, Peter may come back.  And please don't do anything silly like leaving without me if you find him.  Remember that Peter will die if we don't restore him."

"It's because I'm trying to restore him that he's lost right now!" Hook snapped in annoyance.  "Go now, and check in with me from time to time.  I'm trusting that you won't find him and spirit him away to Neverland, and leave me alone without my boy." 

"No, his mother has decided that Peter needs his father.  She's alive now, but we can't cheat death for long.  She eventually has to go back into the dream-watch or die.  If it weren't for the danger to his life, we would have left him with you and never told either of you we'd found you."

Hook stared at her for a moment.  I don't remember Kaylee telling me this.  We were interrupted by Peter's nightmare, perhaps she didn't get the chance.  She was willing to give him up to me completely… "She's a mother to her core.  She'd give him up to ensure his happiness."

Dria nodded, "She did it once before.  She knowingly entered the dream-watch, not from fear of death but to ensure that Peter and any other children that find themselves in Neverland would remain safe.  She gave up her eternal rest for him."  She frowned a bit, guessing Hook's thought.  "We know you're a good father.  We disapprove of your heavy handedness, but Peter loves you with all his heart, and you return that love.  You are a good father," she repeated in response to Hook's snort of disbelief.  "You're telling him the truth, knowing that he could leave you, that he may hate you and seek to revenge himself on you.  But you love him enough to put his own well-being and happiness before your own.  You've proved yourself to us… and to him - once he's calmed down and knows everything he'll see it too."

"Thank you," Hook sighed.  It actually meant a lot to him that a fey creature could say that to him, knowing how much they probably hated him for what he'd done.  If his mother and the fey can forgive me, perhaps Peter can too.  "Go, lady, and see if you can find Peter.  He's moved on from this area, but I don't know which way he's going."  He watched as Dria flew out the window, then tried to go back to sleep. 

After an hour of tossing, he gave up and went to the old journals, pulling out a random one from his time in Neverland.  He hadn't read these since he left the fey realm, fearing Peter would pick one up and see it.  So he settled back in his bed and read, laughing a bit and smiling fondly as he read about some of the pranks Peter had pulled on him. 

Eventually he drifted off to sleep.  He had nightmares, dreams in which he captured Peter Pan in Neverland and put a noose around his neck, laughing while the child called him daddy and begged him for help.  He pushed Peter off the crates and smiled as he strangled.  He saw the betrayal in Peter's eyes, staring at him accusingly even after they had glazed in death.  Hook awoke gasping for breath, the memory of his dream strong in his mind.  It was a long night indeed for Captain Hook.