Author's Note: Thanks again to those who have reviewed. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. :)

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Peter landed lightly upon the floor of Wendy's bedchamber, his sea blue eyes focused intently upon Hook, who still bent over Wendy in her bed, his long hair hiding her face from Peter's gaze.

"I told you to get away from her," Peter said icily, taking a step forward with his knife in a ready grip. He looked quite as he always had in Neverland, restored to the lithe slenderness of youth, wearing his leaves and vines, his hands and feet once more quite dirty, for he had enjoyed many adventures since he had lived in Wendy's house but bathing had not been one of them.

Hook stood with an easy grace, turning to face Peter fully, his arms spread wide as if in innocent explanation. "How very cross you seem, Pan. Have you been thinking again? You know, you really should abandon pastimes at which you perform so very poorly."

Peter began to walk slowly toward Hook, but the pirate too moved slowly away, so that they circled each other warily in Wendy's dimly lit bedchamber. Their elongated shadows danced upon the ornate wallpaper, blending and separating in an elaborate dance, just as Hook and Peter themselves had always danced together in their eternal struggle.

"Why are you here? Why have you been pretending to be a doctor?" Peter demanded. In truth, he was very confused by Hook's presence in London and in Wendy's house, but he also felt quite cocky about the fact that he had mistrusted the supposed doctor from the very first.

Hook rolled his eyes as if Peter was simply too droll for words. And perhaps he was. "You are a fool, boy! Nothing but a fool!"

"Me? A fool? Funny, I thought you were the one who got eaten by a crocodile," Peter gloated with a laugh.

"A minor set-back," Hook said dismissively. "Your sweet Wendy was kind enough to bring me back, depositing me in this world where there is ever so much more to plunder. In comparison, Neverland was quite lacking in riches."

"What?" cried Peter as they continued to warily circle each other, each taking a step that coincided with the other's. Peter had not noticed how quiet Wendy was, and if he had he would most likely have blithely assumed that she was sleeping. He had no way of knowing that, instead of mere sleep, her languor was due to Hook's lethal dose of morphine which was even now coursing through her veins.

No, Peter did not notice, and Peter did not think, for Hook had been quite accurate in asserting that thinking was not one of the boy's strengths. Peter, instead, allowed himself to be drawn into discussion with Hook, for he never could resist responding to a taunt.

"Oh yessssss," purred Hook with a sly smile. "You are a fool, my boy, because you let this opportunity take you, instead of you taking it. You lived on the filthy streets like a beggar, while I arrived with the same lack of memory, and became quite wealthy in a rather short amount of time."

"How?" spat Peter. "By robbing and killing?" He took a quick step toward Hook, but Hook simply took a corresponding step back, and their dance continued.

Hook smiled a very self-satisfied sort of smile, and bragged, "Oh, I killed one pathetic doctor, it is true, but it is really quite simple to obtain the benefits of living well, if you are simply willing to do what is necessary."

"I would rather starve!" declared Peter. "I only kill villains like you!"

Hook tisked and gazed at Peter with sardonic disappointment. "Oh, Pan. Still so full of noble intentions. When will you learn how the world really works?"

"To be like you?" Peter's chin lifted proudly. "Never!"

For it was true that, even when he had remembered nothing of Neverland or his past, Captain James Hook had been a villain through and through. An unrepentant, arrogant, bloodthirsty villain. It was simply who he was, and who he always would be.

And Peter, with the same lack of memories, had retained his honor and nobility. When he saved Wendy and Miss Crawford from the motor car, it had become clear that even when sleeping on the reeking and squalid streets of London, Peter was in his heart a hero. An innocent, arrogant, impetuous hero. It was simply who he was, and who he always would be.

It was how Wendy saw them in her storyteller's heart, and it was how they had therefore been created, though Wendy herself had never realized it.

Hook pulled the revolver from his pocket, now grinning with delight. "How unfortunate that you brought only such a very small knife, my dear boy. I think you shall find that you are quite outclassed."

Peter flew into the air and toward Hook, his knife outstretched with deadly intention. But Hook deflected the knife with the length of his revolver. Hook's weapon would not be useful unless he could keep Pan at a distance, which would be difficult in the small bedchamber. Also, though he would have Peter believe the opposite, Hook was in fact rather at a disadvantage in this fight, due to only having one hand, and not having his hook to use as an additional weapon.

Peter flew about the room, laughing and taunting Hook, never staying in once place long enough for Hook to take aim. "I guess you don't remember how to fly. That's too bad!" And at those words, Peter flew quite close over Hook's head, using his knife to cut off a long lock of hair.

"Shall I give you a haircut, Captain Hook? You'll need one if you want to pretend to be some stupid doctor again." Peter made another pass, cutting off another lock of hair while Hook made every attempt to grab the boy to send him to the ground at a suitable distance. The revolver was proving a rather ineffectual weapon, but Hook had not expected that Peter Pan would arrive, and so he had prepared not at all for such an eventuality. He had planned only to inject Wendy with the poisonous dose of morphine, merrily watch her die, and then leave the house in silence. This was decidedly not going according to plan.

Long locks of curling black hair now decorated the floor of Wendy's bedchamber, and Peter flew in laughing circles around Hook. During one of his soaring swoops along the ceiling, however, Peter unintentionally flew far enough away from Hook that the pirate was able to take aim ... and fired his revolver.

"Aarrrrrrgggggh!" screamed Peter, not with the pain of the small wound in his leg where the bullet had grazed him, but rather in rage at Hook. He soared furiously toward the pirate, his knife now held to plunge into Hook's heart.

Hook took aim as quickly as possible, most likely not accurately, only to find that Peter knocked his revolver aside, sending it flying across the room spinning across the rug toward the door. As Peter flew past, he grabbed the candlestick from the bedside table to use as an additional weapon.

Neither Peter Pan nor Captain Hook, it must be noted, paid any attention whatsoever to the soft sound of running feet out in the hallway. Even if they had, they would certainly have felt that no one in the house could play any role in this epic battle, for such was the pride of both.

Peter flew back toward the ceiling to build speed for another charge, certain that Hook was now quite helpless without a weapon, but as Peter flew toward him, Hook suddenly snatched Wendy from the bed and held her thin body so that she and her long white nightdress hung in front of him, his handless right arm supporting her by wrapping around and pressing against her throat.

"Have you looked at your Wendy, Pan?" Hook taunted, angling Wendy's body so that it protected him from Peter's knife. He would drag the girl with him as he left, if necessary, but first he could not resist taunting Pan, for Hook was as vulnerable to such prideful displays as Peter himself was.

"Have you not noticed how limp she is?" Hook used his left hand to lift one of Wendy's arms, and then releasing it abruptly so that it fell slack against her body. "How pale?" And Hook stroked his fingers along Wendy's bloodless cheek.

"Don't you touch her!" screamed Peter, watching with horror, uncertain how to kill Hook without injuring Wendy. Why was she not moving? Surely she could not sleep through this! Why was she not fighting? What was wrong with Wendy?

"But Pan!" smiled Hook. "The lady does not seem to mind." And Hook pressed his lips to Wendy's.

Infuriated, Peter bellowed as he flew toward the pirate with all of his strength. Hook held Wendy before him even more securely, backing toward the door as Peter set upon him. Knowing that he could not use his knife lest he cut Wendy, Peter instead struck Hook as hard as he could upon the head, with the same candlestick he had thrown at the "doctor" months before.

Hook and Wendy collapsed to the ground simultaneously, blood seeping from Hook's head as he lay clearly unconscious or dead. Ignoring the no longer dangerous pirate, Peter dropped his knife to the floor and used both arms to carefully lift Wendy and pull her away from Hook.

Peter knelt beside her and touching her face. "Wendy?" he cried in confusion and fear. "Wendy, what is wrong?" But Wendy did not answer him, and tears gathered in his eyes. Though he did not precisely remember when Tink had nearly died in Neverland, he did know that the look upon Wendy's face was terrible and frightening.

Remembering the stories of Snow White and Cinderella, Peter quickly covered Wendy's lips with his own, putting all of his hopes and dreams and feelings into this one kiss, certain that this must work, because it had always worked in Wendy's stories. But when he lifted his head to look down at her once more, she lay just as still and lifeless as she had before. The tears in Peter's eyes began to fall.

As Peter knelt by Wendy and stroked her hair and spoke to her in urgent tones, all of his attention focused intently upon the dying girl, Hook had wakened behind him, for he had been only stunned by Peter's blow.

Taking Peter's knife from where the boy had dropped it upon the rug and slowly, silently coming to his feet, Hook walked up behind the distracted boy, the knife raising for a killing blow to Peter's neck.

But then there sounded into the night a loud sound. A sound which both Peter and Hook turned to investigate. But Hook fell almost immediately to the ground, blood now streaming from his heart as the pirate breathed his last, his dying eyes wide in disbelief.

For there in the bedroom doorway stood Miss Millicent Tilney in her high-necked nightdress, Hook's smoking revolver still clutched in her extended hand.

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Author's End Note: Next chapter is the last one.