Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan or any of its characters.
CHAPTER NINE
TIDES OF ANGUISH
The Chief examined Peter, who laid on a mat inside a teepee. "I'm okay now, really." Peter protested about all of the fuse. The Chief placed his great hands around Peter's face and stared into his eyes. Peter held the eye contact.
With a slight grunt he released his hold on Peter. "What?" Curiosity and part concern caused Peter to ask.
The Chief crossed his arms in front of his chest and in his deep booming voice he questioned Peter. "You feel fine?"
Peter couldn't lie, not to him. He released a slight sigh. "It's not a big deal. I just have this constant headache and it feels like there's always something gouged in my side, or something." He noted the concern in the Chief's eyes. "I'm fine. I can cope with it. It's only a headache and stomachache."
"Only a headache and stomachache?! Peter, you fainted! And I know that that wasn't the first incident." Tiger Lily said as she stood near the entrance of the teepee. Not knowing what to say Peter shrugged his shoulders.
The Chief remained standing still. "When did this first happen?" Peter thought about the question.
"You said you had a cramp when we were on our way to the village, when it was disappearing." Tiger Lily said thoughtfully. Peter nodded his head yes.
"Yeah, that's when the headaches and stomach pains started."
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"How to catch those scurvy brats?" Captain Hook rubbed his chin with his finger and thumb as he paced back and forth across the deck. "We have to get them when Peter's not around." Captain Hook released a wicked laugh. "I want it to be a surprise for Peter Pan."
As his mind reeled for a plan of revenge he began to subconsciously think of the past, and what had brought him to where he now stood.
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He tightly held onto Peter's hand as the pressure in his lungs and head reached their limits. The need for air was evident, but the need to live was stronger. He could have neither though. With that realization he looked at Peter, who was frantically trying to save him. He signaled for him to stop, it was futile, his time was almost up.
Peter violently shook his head no; he wasn't ready to accept it yet. James grabbed onto his shoulders and tightly pulled him into an embrace. The pressure in his head exploded, pain shot through his body with such vengeance. Then he felt nothing. Felt nothing, and saw nothing.
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The next feeling he felt was cold. He was freezing. His body shook in convulsions and his head was reeling. He felt as if he was falling, endlessly falling down, further and further, never reaching the end.
He brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His hair was mangled and wet and his clothing soaked. He was unable to think clearly, his only thought was that it was cold, too damn cold.
--------------------
He lay upon a shore. Cold unforgiving waves continuously washed over him. The sky was dark, but filled with millions of stars. He remained curled in a ball. All his strength was gone, and replaced with exhaustion.
He was so tired, too tired. He began to slip into a sleep, one he hoped not to wake from. On the brink of that sleep of death he felt himself being lifted up.
An older man held him by the collar of his shirt. He shook him back and forth, causing sand to fall off of him.
The shaking forced him to open his eyes, though he couldn't see very clearly. He focused in on the man's head, which had a black hat, with a large white feather pocking out of it. Unable to focus, or stay conscience any longer he closed his eyes.
The man shook him again, but this time there was no response. He checked to see if he still had a pulse, when satisfied he flung the small boy over his shoulder and returned to his ship.
CHAPTER NINE
TIDES OF ANGUISH
The Chief examined Peter, who laid on a mat inside a teepee. "I'm okay now, really." Peter protested about all of the fuse. The Chief placed his great hands around Peter's face and stared into his eyes. Peter held the eye contact.
With a slight grunt he released his hold on Peter. "What?" Curiosity and part concern caused Peter to ask.
The Chief crossed his arms in front of his chest and in his deep booming voice he questioned Peter. "You feel fine?"
Peter couldn't lie, not to him. He released a slight sigh. "It's not a big deal. I just have this constant headache and it feels like there's always something gouged in my side, or something." He noted the concern in the Chief's eyes. "I'm fine. I can cope with it. It's only a headache and stomachache."
"Only a headache and stomachache?! Peter, you fainted! And I know that that wasn't the first incident." Tiger Lily said as she stood near the entrance of the teepee. Not knowing what to say Peter shrugged his shoulders.
The Chief remained standing still. "When did this first happen?" Peter thought about the question.
"You said you had a cramp when we were on our way to the village, when it was disappearing." Tiger Lily said thoughtfully. Peter nodded his head yes.
"Yeah, that's when the headaches and stomach pains started."
-----------------------
"How to catch those scurvy brats?" Captain Hook rubbed his chin with his finger and thumb as he paced back and forth across the deck. "We have to get them when Peter's not around." Captain Hook released a wicked laugh. "I want it to be a surprise for Peter Pan."
As his mind reeled for a plan of revenge he began to subconsciously think of the past, and what had brought him to where he now stood.
---------------------
He tightly held onto Peter's hand as the pressure in his lungs and head reached their limits. The need for air was evident, but the need to live was stronger. He could have neither though. With that realization he looked at Peter, who was frantically trying to save him. He signaled for him to stop, it was futile, his time was almost up.
Peter violently shook his head no; he wasn't ready to accept it yet. James grabbed onto his shoulders and tightly pulled him into an embrace. The pressure in his head exploded, pain shot through his body with such vengeance. Then he felt nothing. Felt nothing, and saw nothing.
-----------------------
The next feeling he felt was cold. He was freezing. His body shook in convulsions and his head was reeling. He felt as if he was falling, endlessly falling down, further and further, never reaching the end.
He brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His hair was mangled and wet and his clothing soaked. He was unable to think clearly, his only thought was that it was cold, too damn cold.
--------------------
He lay upon a shore. Cold unforgiving waves continuously washed over him. The sky was dark, but filled with millions of stars. He remained curled in a ball. All his strength was gone, and replaced with exhaustion.
He was so tired, too tired. He began to slip into a sleep, one he hoped not to wake from. On the brink of that sleep of death he felt himself being lifted up.
An older man held him by the collar of his shirt. He shook him back and forth, causing sand to fall off of him.
The shaking forced him to open his eyes, though he couldn't see very clearly. He focused in on the man's head, which had a black hat, with a large white feather pocking out of it. Unable to focus, or stay conscience any longer he closed his eyes.
The man shook him again, but this time there was no response. He checked to see if he still had a pulse, when satisfied he flung the small boy over his shoulder and returned to his ship.
