Dreams and Shadows, by Mileharo Kerran

Sorry it took so long to update this story, but I've simply had no time; I was busy with a lot of other things. Thank you, once again, everyone, for the reviews, and thank you for the recommendations; it's really sweet of you, DemonQueen666. So there; just read and review, but most importantly, enjoy! :)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Something That Belonged To Him

"Fight him like a what?" The amusement in Peter's voice was slightly tainted with uncertainty, though it never surfaced completely into his consciousness as they flew away from the mermaids' sheltered lake, the angry roar of the pirates' Captain still ringing through the crisp night air.

"A man," Tinker Bell replied with a giggle -- or a tinkle -- as her skin still flashed the colors of her glee and excitement from the last encounter.

Careless Tinker Bell. She had forgotten about her first boy who had turned into a man in her absorption with her Peter. And such a thorough absorption it was; in her eyes Peter became a light that never grew dim, that even when he wandered away from her line of sight -- and those moments were few and far in between -- or if she closed her eyes to sleep, his image remained persistently, his wind-teased hair gleaming, his sun-kissed skin gleaming even more, but it was in his eyes that the brightest glimmers shone, those two stars of undying light.

"Ah," was Peter's only reply. His face was etched with its almost-ever-present look of arrogant innocence. Or was it innocent arrogance? For though he did not understand, his lips lifted into a smug smile as if he did. But it did not truly matter to anyone, really, if Peter did or did not understand things, for he was a boy, the boy of Never Land who was loved by all -- or almost all -- because of how he brought the Never Land back to life.

Poor forgetful Peter. He had forgotten what he feared the most in his absorption with his Never Land. And such a thorough absorption it was; in his eyes the Never Land was a verdant paradise whose hues never faded, that he could never get enough of its beauty even if he spent all his days burrowing through the fecund vegetation of its jungles or flying over the starkly jutting mountains or the fathomless seas.

"A man..." A vague image of an uptight, tense, and tight-collared figure came into the boy's mind. He had lived for so long with his fairy that he had forgotten what a man exactly was, and his brow crumpled in deep concentration as he attempted to recall the blurred image.

Tinker Bell noticed this as they flew, and she hovered close to his head and lay her hand in a gentle caress against her boy's forehead to tease away the furrow. "What is the matter, Peter?" she tinkled.

At this, Peter's face once again smoothed out into its usual youthful unconcernedness, for he did not wish to be troubled with troubles, and had taken it as his unconscious creed that the only way to deal with troubles is to just not deal with them at all. He simply did not have the time to waste on such useless emotions, for he would rather focus all his energies into learning even more of his Never Land.

But as the days passed, that one word echoed through the corners of his mind when he least expected it. Once, when he was in the act of sweeping away a spray of leaves hiding a particularly promising patch of shadow beneath it, his hand froze in mid-air as the memory of the word pierced his mind... "fight me like a man... like a man... man..." Only the sharp pain of Tinker Bell's nails against his ear drew his attention back to the adventure they were currently playing. Peter only grinned his boyish grin and he was instantly forgiven. He never had any need to apologize, and that was a good thing, for he was never apologetic.

He convinced Tinker Bell that the Jolly Roger was almost as intriguing as the jungles of Never Land, and that the pirates were even more so. He did not need to say that the Captain was what drew him the most, for there was something in his new-found fascination with that dark figure that simply begged to be kept secret. But even Tinker Bell's distaste for the pirates' crude ways was not strong enough to resist Peter -- who could resist Peter? -- so that Tinker Bell found herself more and more often reluctantly following her boy as he peeked between large fronds and enormous treetrunks by the jungle's edge, where they could watch unobserved the pirates' ways. The Captain's ways.

There was something in the Captain that drew Peter's eyes... but he did not know what exactly it was. Was it those cold blue eyes, glittering cruelly even from that distance? Or that tight lip curling evilly as it spat out orders at the nervous but admiring crew? Or was it that something... that most elusive something... that made itself felt as the Captain waved his hands about? His hands... his... hand? Yes, something hovered around the Captain's right hand that was not for all to see... What was it? But Peter did not know.

All he knew was... it belonged to him.

-------

Why was it that as time passed, it did so in the most alarmingly unpredictable manner?

Time had become the Captain's obssession, for with every grey hair that he discovered in his thick mane of black hair, or with every fine line that carved itself into the skin of his face -- especially near his mouth, which was most often held in its tight frown -- the passage of time seemed to become marked in his mind as an ever present tick... tock... tick... tock... reminding him in that constantly mocking sound that he was growing old... old...

So he had made it a point that wherever he went, he brought with him his timepiece, hung by a chain around his neck, for then he would be at least comforted by the thought that the ticking was not only inside his head. It was an unlucky pirate that could not answer back immediately if the Captain asked what the time was. And those times that he asked were becoming more and more frequent.

-------

Even Tinker Bell did not know that Peter could move so fast. And no, Tinker Bell did not know either that Peter's face could contort into such a grimace of hatred, but that was exactly what the fairy saw in the splitsecond before Peter suddenly shot away from their cover.

And she could do nothing but shout his name.

-------

What it was exactly, the Captain did not know... a soft tinkle? But the sound that served to alarm him came too late. All he saw was a blur, and suddenly, his hand was pierced with the most terrible pain he had ever felt, almost more painful than the bitterness that pulsed through his heart time and again. Or was the pain really in his hand? He lifted his hand... but where was it?

The horror came before the anguished cry of pain, but when he cried, oh, what a terrible sound! The harsh wail made the sails of the Jolly Roger shake, as did the wooden planks beneath his feet, as did the pirates' frightened knees. What remained of his hand was a stump of flesh from which blood spurted alarmingly. The pirates could only stare in shock.

And then, one of them shouted, "Pan!"

The Captain had sunk to his knees, his mouth opening and closing in pain though no sound came from it, his eyes still riveted to the ghastly image before him. But when the name touched his ears, his eyes suddenly glowed as red as the blood still flowing in dark rivulets from his severed hand, and he forced himself to crawl to the ship's side and look in the direction the pirate was pointing to.

The air was yet again rent by another one of the Captain's roars.

"Paaaaaaaan!"

And then he fell overboard.

-------

He was flying too fast with the rush of triumph, of accomplishment that flowed through his entire body. Finally he had it in his hands! What belonged to him! Only to him! And nobody saw that terrible gleam that crossed the boy's eyes, for his back was to the pirates and to his fairy. He felt like laughing! Hahahah! But even as he laughed, something constricted inside his chest, and in his alarm the hand that held the thing that belonged to him suddenly shook violently.

And then the something that belonged to him slipped from his grip, and fell towards the water.

The boy's cry was almost as terrible as the Captain's had been.

Everything seemed to slow down as Peter looked back in horror, but before the bloody hand could touch the water, something rose from the glassy surface and caught the hand as it fell.

Snap.

The huge crocodile's jaws clamped shut over that something that belonged to Peter, and it was forever lost to him as the animal splashed back into the water. Peter thought he saw a satisfied curl lifting the ends of the monster's green lip as the tasty morsel touched its tongue.

But it was as if that brief moment of passion died as soon as the hand disappeared from his view inside the crocodile's mouth, and for a moment Peter wondered why he was in the air, and he wondered what the agonized screaming and the deafening gunshots below him was all about.

There came a whizzing sound as something flew through the air. It was a cannonball from Long Tom's metal bowels, but Peter neatly shifted a few inches to his left, that only his hair was ruffled as the cannonball flew past his head.

Only then did he notice the bloodied dagger still gripped tightly in his hand, and only then did the terrible magnitude of his deed dawn on his mind, and he was, for a moment, filled with the deepest shame. But Peter was a child, and he was one generally with even less remorse than was usual, so the only thing he knew how to do was wipe the smile off his face for a minute before he returned to where his fairy was by the jungle's edge.

And he was seen no more by the pirates that fateful day.

-------

The salty water tortured the Captain's ruined appendage anew as he became completely submerged, and he could do nothing but gurgle and snort at the pain, even as his blood quickly spread in a dark curtain around him. But his troubles were not in any way over, for as he broke through the surface gasping for air, he sensed something moving towards him. Something huge.

And then he saw it. Two yellow eyes glinting over the blue water.

It was upon him almost immediately, and the Captain thought it was surely his end as he felt something tug violently from his neck at the same time that he heard those massive jaws snap shut.

But it was not yet his time to part ways with his mortality. He was lucky enough that at that same time his crew had come to their senses and started firing at the crocodile, and one pirate was lucky enough in his attempt to save the Captain, for his bullet grazed the massive green snout, which was suddenly wrenched open as the crocodile let out its own pained growl. And then it was sinking into the water, and in another blink of an eye it was gone.

And the air was once again silent.