Chapter 1

Hook leered at the boy kneeling before him, feeling intense pleasure at seeing his nemesis helpless.  Oh you arrogant brat, your time is up now.  I will have my revenge.  "Any last words, Pan?" he sneered, testing the tip of his claw with his finger.

Peter glared at the man and tried his best to hide his fear.  Behind his back, his hands worked frantically at the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles together.  He kept his back straight and his head high, determined to remain proud and defiant until the end.  "I'm not afraid of you, you cowardly Codfish!  You can't kill me!"

"Can't I?" Hook mused thoughtfully.  "We shall see."  At the boy's snort of laughter, Hook's face flushed with rage.  "No more games, boy!  The story is over – thus perished Peter Pan!"  He swiped visciously with his claw, leaving a thin, deep gash across the boy's throat.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise as he felt the bright pain across his throat and the warm wetness running down his chest.  No!  This isn't supposed to happen! he thought in shock, and something inside reached out in panic.  As the world drained in color and his senses dulled, his soul screamed for help.  Then he knew no more.

Hook watched in amazement as the light went out in Peter's eyes.  The small body went limp and toppled over onto its side, a pool of blood growing rapidly around it.  I don't believe it, he thought in wonder.  I've killed him!  Peter Pan is dead!  Strangely, he wasn't as happy as he thought he'd be. Actually, he was quite disappointed.

"NO!" a girl's scream cut the air.  Hook looked over at the group of children tied together at the mast.  Wendy was screaming, her face white with horror, while the other boy's looked to be in varying stages of shock.

I shouldn't have done this in front of them.  Hook had actually planned to kill them when Pan was gone, but now, seeing the trauma in their eyes and the bloody, still child lying at his feet, he felt his stomach turn.  As much as he hated Pan, he should have restrained himself as a proper gentleman should, and spared these innocent children this sight.  "Mason!  Mullins!  Put them ashore and let them go.  We quit this place tonight."

A cold wind blew, and thunderheads raced across the once clear blue sky.  From within Hook's cabin, they heard Tinker Bell's scream.  A thin bolt of lightning cut the sky, and to everyone aboard it seemed as if the forks that split from it pierced their hearts.  Hook staggered back several steps as the energy coursed through him, fighting the wave of dizziness and pain that wracked him for several seconds.  Shaking his head, he saw his men lying or sitting on the deck, shaking their heads to clear them.  The children sagged limply in their bonds.  The sky was clear again, and the wind was calm.

"Odds, bobs, what was that?" Hook growled.

"Cap'n?" Billy Jukes's voice sounded small and when Hook looked to him, he saw the boy was crying.  "Where'd Neverland go?"

The men looked around in alarm, and indeed they were in the open sea, with no land in sight.  Hook was about to answer that he hadn't the foggiest notion, when he felt a weight drop from his arm.  He looked down, frowning at the steel hook lying on the deck.  It fell off?

"Cap'n!  Yer hand!" Smee yelled, pointing at the arm that had worn the hook.

Hook looked down and stared in wonder at the hand affixed there, as whole and warm as if it had never been gone.  He flexed the fingers, feeling the strength there.  He touched it, and slowly the realization sank in that it was real.

"What the devil…" he gasped.  A low moan caught his attention and he looked down at the source of the sound.  Peter jerked, another moan passing his lips as he feebly pulled against the ropes.  His eyes were squeezed shut where before they had been wide open and dead. 

"He's alive?" Hook whispered in shock.  "How is it possible?"  He knelt by the boy, ignoring the blood that seeped through his pants and felt at the boy's neck, needing verification even though he plainly saw the child moved.  As he touched the small throat, Peter screamed and jerked, his struggles becoming frenzied.  He's hurt, we have to see to him.  It struck Hook as odd that he felt concern for Pan, but too many strange things had just happened for him to care.  Quickly, Hook pulled a dagger and cut the ropes that bound Peter.

Peter's eye's flew open when he felt himself freed.  He scrambled away from the man, panic evident in his wild eyes and frantic gestures.  Crawling quickly, he backed out of the pool of blood and sat, staring at the crimson stain on the deck, then looking down at the blood soaking his clothes and covering his hands. 

"Peter," Hook called softly, but stopped short when the boy locked eyes with him.  Half of Peter's face was covered in gore, and the hair on that side of his head was matted with it.  But besides the horror of the child's appearance there was a greater horror:  Peter's eyes held no recognition, no sanity.  And then he began to scream.