Title: Island

Disclaimer, dyslexic style: Own Pan I do Peter not. Not I Hook own do.

Notes: Oh, this chapter is fun, sort of. But angsty. I will try not to have too much angst, but I love it so. Er, there aren't really any notes for this chapter. Thank you to Kimberly A. and Jetso, my avid reviewers! And additional thanks to all others who have reviewed. I hope you like where it's going!

Chapter Eleven: Capture

Wendy could not move.

Peter's hand was frozen on his dagger. His gaze went to Rufio first, and Rufio saw a pirate's eyes, raw and full of red feeling. It was not the first time that Rufio was frightened by him, and it would not be the last. Rufio smothered his instinct to reach for his blade. The precaution was needless, for Peter's eyes had moved on.

To Wendy, Peter Pan had never looked younger than he did at the moment their eyes met. There were closed windows in his gaze, and for a long moment Wendy was afraid to move forward, lest there would be bars between them. But she did, and her hand reached out to him. Peter shied back.

'Peter,' Wendy whispered.

'No, Wendy,' Peter said. Her hand fell away, catching her plea. She drew it to her breast, perhaps hoping it could mend a fractured heart. Wendy stepped back with a bowed head.

Rufio looked on in silence, his eyes on Pan. The feather was a stone weight around his neck, but he could not bring himself to tear it off. The gesture would resolve things in Pan's moment-to-moment world. But Rufio cared, and the stale feeling grated at his insides. Rufio would not tear off a mother's understanding just to show an awful boy something he should have seen already.

Wendy watched the ground, and Peter watched Wendy with the lost eyes of a child who has just discovered that his favorite toy is broken. Rufio watched Pan, and the three hung in this torturous balance for a moment before a twig snapped in the wood.

Rufio's hand did go to his blade then, and Peter Pan spun to face the forest.

'Hook,' he said. Perhaps his hurt was only buried, but it seemed that Peter had forgotten the previous matter entirely. His eyes were lit by the promise of the pirate.

'Come out, Codfish!' he taunted. Behind him, Rufio's knuckles were white around the hilt of his blade. He could not comprehend how Wendy kept herself from strangling this boy. It boggled him that the girl was the only one who wasn't growing violent at present, still standing with her bowed head and her quiet hands. She was almost unnaturally silent.

It was not silence, Rufio realized; it was distance. Wendy was moving off up the beach, her carriage regal, her head no longer bowed. Rufio knew that Hook would not attack alone, and that there was likely an entire crew of pirates within the expanse of forest, watching Wendy as she strayed closer to its edge. Rufio sighed, looking once to the preoccupied Pan before following Wendy.

Wendy was crying. They were not proper tears, but silent ones that ghosted down her cheeks. She was not entirely aware of the direction of her steps; only that they carried her near to the woods. Take it back, Wendy, Peter's gaze had said. Her kiss had withered on his lips. Take it back.

'Wendy,' a voice said lowly. She froze. There was not sand, but vines, beneath her feet. She had walked into the forest, and was now quite surrounded by a writhing green dark.

'Wendy,' said the voice again. It appealed to her this time, a sympathetic bass. A light breached the darkness, tracing a cold path down her cheek. Wendy was quite suddenly accosted by the scents of cigar smoke, liquor and aging lace, and it was not light that comforted her, but steel. Wendy shied away, into the waiting arms of a pirate. She did not scream, but a calloused hand eclipsed her mouth in precaution.

'Darling,' said Hook. He was most distinguishable against the darkness now, and there was something acutely triumphant hanging about the corners of his mouth. His eyes, as always, were mirthless, and as blue as she remembered them to be.

Wendy's eyes grew wide. Hook feigned shock.

'Surely, Pan told you I lived?'

Peter had been telling the truth! And Wendy had dismissed it as his forgetfulness. She began to struggle, and the arm around her middle tightened. She did not still until Hook traced her tear again. His eyes were somber.

'This is not the first time he has made you cry,' he said, with gentle precision. Wendy's gaze fell, and she could not have struggled if she tried. In one swift motion the hand released her mouth and a gag replaced it. She was spared one wild-eyed glimpse of Hook before she was slung over the shoulder of her captor. Hook's voice wafted back to her, silencing her strangled cries.

'Do forgive this grave insult, my dear. I simply could not do with a refusal for your company.' Soon they were moving out of the forest, the small group of pirates followed closely by the remainder that had scattered through the wood.

Rufio slid from the tree in which he had been hiding. He was intelligent enough not to leap down amidst a slew of enemies that would slay him instantly. He was not worth torture. Once his feet touched sand, he was running.

Peter was still at the forest's edge, looking quite put out. Why had Codfish not risen to his bate? It was the first time that ever happened. Peter found a rock and sat, placing his chin on his fists. It would be called sulking, if he were not so tall. But when a boy's jaw grows pronounced, he cannot properly sulk, and must brood. He ignored Rufio when the boy arrived, panting.

'Wendy! Hook has Wendy!' Peter's head snapped up.

'Wendy?' he cried. And then, in a hard voice, 'Wendy.' He frowned and resumed his brooding. Rufio shook his head.

'You're a moron,' he said, flatly. Peter stood and drew his sword, most affronted.

'What?' he spat.

'I said,' Rufio drew his sword slowly, speaking over the even lick of unsheathing steel. 'You're a moron.' Peter looked at him, quite shocked. This was also a first, for his Lost Boys never insulted him. He recovered quickly, however, and cried out, flying at Rufio with a flashing sword.

Rufio braced against Pan when their swords met, blocking the blow above his head. He shoved Pan off, but the boy recovered quickly. They held their swords at the ready, circling.

'I don't think you heard me, Pan,' Rufio said, evenly. 'Hook has Wendy.'

'And Wendy has you,' Peter snapped. 'Why should I care?'

Rufio took a calming breath. Throttling this boy could prove fatal, and not for Pan. 'Wendy has you, Pan,' he corrected.

'Not anymore.'

Rufio's self-control snapped. He growled and ran at the boy, and Peter blocked his blow at the last moment. At such a distance, Rufio needed only a hiss to get his point across. 'Did you look at her? If she does not care about you, then she has an awfully strange way of showing it. Wendy does not strike me as the type to waste her tears, but she certainly is if she keeps crying over you!' Rufio shoved Peter back.

Peter's arm dropped, the tip of his sword touching the sand. He was silent for a long time, with inclement eyes and a drawn expression. After a great pause, he looked back to Rufio with a proud chin. He said nothing.

Rufio was quite ready to kill Pan. But carrying out such a gratifying act would only prove troublesome. There was only one way to deal with this boy, and Rufio accepted this fact begrudgingly. He sheathed his sword and spoke. 'Fine. If you will not go after her, I will.'

'What?' Peter's expression dropped. Rufio was already marching off. This was not right at all! 'No!' shouted Peter, sheathing his blade as well. 'I will rescue her!' He leapt into the air.

Rufio sighed and watched him go, then turned sharply back into the wood toward the Underground Home. Despite what Pan believed, he would need backup.