Chapter 4
Peter lay silent for two days. Both Hook and Smee knew this was a mercy for him, and prayed that he'd sleep for as long as he could before waking to the pain once more. After the first day, Peter developed a fever as infection set in his wound. This wasn't unexpected, but the red streak that was slowly creeping up the boy's arm was an ominous sign – blood poisoning. Both men hoped that the fairy magic that clung to the boy, combined with the legendary resilience of children, would help his weakened body overcome this new trial. But despite Smee's care, the infection worsened at an alarming rate.
Smee sat with him full time, even sleeping at the foot of Hook's bed so he could be there when the boy awoke. It was nearing midnight of the third day when Peter gave a low moan and stirred. Hook was still awake, reading, when he heard the boy. He called for Smee but remained where he was. Peter would be more likely to panic if he saw the captain looming over him.
Peter's eyes fluttered open and he whimpered softly, pulling his arm to his chest. Smee intercepted him and gently pulled the arm back down, careful to not touch him anywhere close to the end of the stump. Peter was too weak to offer any resistance, so he let the old man restrain him and turned to focus his eyes on him.
"Don't move yer arm, lad," Smee warned gently. "Ye'll be in a whole new world o' hurtin' if ya bump it."
"Wendy," Peter moaned.
"Th' lass is safe. She's been worried 'bout ya, but no one's treated her badly," Smee reassured the boy.
"Wendy," the boy called again. "…want Wendy."
Smee looked at the Captain, and Hook nodded. The old bosun looked back down at the boy and gave him a smile. "I'll bring 'er, lad. If ya can stay awake long enough, I'll wake her fer ya. She'll be tickled pink ta see ya."
"Warn her, Smee," Hook told the man. "She hasn't seen him since I cut him, and I don't want her in hysterics over him. The last thing he needs is to be upset."
Smee nodded and left the two alone in the cabin. Peter tried to shift in the bed, but pain lanced up his arm, making him cry out. Once more he pulled his arm up. His eyes locked on the bandage, seeing where his arm stopped in an unnatural, sudden way. Hook watched the boy intently, wondering what Peter would do. He expected him to grieve his loss or perhaps to become angry (Hook himself had done both, in that order), but Peter did neither. Instead the child gave a weary sigh and laid his arm back down. Silence reigned in the room until, at last, Peter spoke.
"I'm cold," he whispered, so softly that Hook wasn't sure he really heard him. But when the boy used his remaining hand to pull the blankets tighter, Hook rose and draped another one over him. He covered Peter's arm instead of trying to tuck the blanket under it, deciding that the less Wendy saw of the arm right now, the better.
Peter's eyes locked with his, and the two enemies stared at one another. Hook noticed the fever-shine in Peter's eyes, making the wildness that was usually there now seem like insanity. He also noted the dry, cracked lips, so he took up a glass of water and dipped a rag in the cool liquid. Peter didn't make any movement as the man brought the wet cloth to his mouth, but he eagerly sucked the moisture from it, letting it relieve his throat. He never looked away from Hook's face.
"I'll give you more water in a little while," the Captain said as he rewet the cloth and let the boy drink again. "Perhaps some broth if you're still awake."
Peter remained silent and once he was finished with the cloth, Hook returned to his book to wait for Smee to bring Wendy. But try as he might, he couldn't concentrate on the words. Peter's silent stare bore into him, and it was all he could do to ignore it. But though he didn't look up, he could still see Peter's eyes - bright with fever from the sickness that was spreading through his small, frail body. He realized then that Peter would die, and that he was going to break the only promise he'd ever made to the child that he'd fully intended to keep.
When Smee escorted Wendy into the room, she was all smiles and motherly concern. She faltered only a moment when she saw her friend lying in the bed, so pale and sick. But Hook knew the girl had rare backbone, and she found it again quick enough to hide her fear and worry. Without a glance at the captain, Wendy rushed to the bed.
"Peter?" she called as she carefully settled by his side, mindful of the too-short lump beneath the covers. "Oh, Peter, I've been so worried! They wouldn't let me see you and take care of you! Tell me what you need."
Peter smiled at the girl and extended his hand to her. She took it with a smile and held on tightly. "He's won," the boy said softly, "Hook's won the game. Now I have to make sure that he doesn't end all the games forever." He sighed and closed his eyes a moment. "Are you well, Wendy?"
Wendy glanced at Smee and nodded. "I'm fine, Peter. They haven't kept me locked up or anything, and Mr. Starkey has been really nice. I haven't escaped because I've been waiting for you to get better. Nibs came to rescue us, but…" she glared at Hook, and the captain saw raw murder in her eyes, "Captain Hook told Nibs they could take me, but if they even tried to come get you, he'd take your head before they got close. After what he did to you… we knew he'd do it."
"I'm glad you stayed," Peter whispered. Tears began to course down the sides of his face towards his ears. "I wish I could have seen them again, but I can at least tell you goodbye."
Wendy's smile disappeared. "Don't talk like that, Peter! You'll get better and come home with me! Hook said he'd leave when you were well, so you have to get better. We need you, Peter."
"I so tired, Wendy. I'm trying to hold on, but every minute it's like I get further and further away. Everything is so thin… and I can almost look through the walls and see something else. I don't know what, but I know it's wonderful. But something's holding me here… I know part of it's you and part is Codfish, but I don't understand it."
"So stay for me, Peter!" Wendy insisted. "Stay for Hook if you have to! Hold on to whatever you can, just don't leave!" She began crying too, but she didn't care anymore. Her fear filled her, fear for Peter and for herself and all the other Lost Boys. What would they do without him?
"I'll try," Peter whispered, raising his hand to wipe away a tear from the girl's cheek. "But I need you to hold onto something for me, in case I can't stay."
"What is it?"
"Will you take care of Neverland for me? Will you become what I am, and take care of everyone until I'm better?"
"I…" Wendy faltered. "I don't know if I can, Peter. What if I'm not good enough?"
Peter smiled and took her hand again. "You'll be wonderful Wendy, just like you always are. You'll be the Mother of Neverland if you want and sister to all the fairy creatures." Absently he tried to reach for her with his missing hand, the habit of a lifetime making him forget for a moment despite the pain. He stifled a moan as he pulled it free of the blankets, and laid the arm back down by his side. "Please, Wendy, I need you to keep everyone safe."
Wendy nodded. "I'll do anything for you, Peter. I love you… but I'm scared."
"I'm scared too, Wendy. And I love you, too."
She caressed the boy's face. "I'll take care of Neverland and the Boys while you're gone, Peter. I promise and I'll make you proud."
"One more kiss, Wendy," Peter asked, "one last kiss and then you have to go home. I'll call for you when I need you, I promise."
Wendy leaned forward and placed her lips lightly on the boy's. She startled at the fever she felt in them, but she closed her eyes and ignored it, concentrating on her love as she kissed him. Peter kissed her back and warmth flooded her body. Warmth and a growing tingling feeling in her heart as Peter surrendered to her everything within him that was Neverland.