Disclaimer: I don't own anything so please don't sue.
One who has slipped in and out of heaven.
We all freeze in horror as Peter falls to the deck, not moving.
His face is full of emotions I did not know he had.
Pain? Fear? Denial?
All things I thought I would never see on his face.
Hook lands nearby, taunting his fallen enemy.
I had heard what they shouted as they dueled in the air. How I would rather grow up than stay here. How Peter would fly to visit one night only to find the window locked and barred.
Peter had cried that he would call out my name. Was that a hint of desperation in his voice?
Hook had sneered that I would not hear him. His voice was cruel and mocking as he claimed that I would forget him and that another man would take his place. A man called 'Husband'.
Nonsense. Regardless of what happened, wether I grew up or not, Peter would always hold a place in my heart.
Hook said that losing 'his Wendy' would give Peter unhappy thoughts. Was he right?
Hook is about to kill Peter. He is raising his arm, the one with the hook, to deal the final blow.
I hear myself as if from far away. I am screaming, struggling against my captor as I try to reach them.
My movements feel slow, as if I am moving through water. As if everything slows down and I am forced to watch, helpless.
My head slams into the nose of the pirate who holds me. He lets me go with a yell of pain. I run towards Peter and Hook, grabbing his arm to stop him. I succeed, but only for a moment. I am thrown to the deck beside Peter.
Hook is saying something, but I ignore him. I lean over Peter and whisper to him. "Peter, I am sorry I must grow up, but this isyours."
Hook jerks me upright. "What is that?" he snarls.
My voice is soft as I tell him "Tis but a thimble." Inwardly I smile. That night in the nursery, I had told Peter I would give him a kiss. He had held out his hand and I had given him a thimble. Now he called Thimbles and the acorn he gave me that I now wear around my neck; kisses, and calls kisses; thimbles.
Hook laughs, saying what a girlish thing it is to give.
I touch Peter's cheek with my hand, speaking to him. "This belongs to you, and always will."
I kiss him, the woman's kiss that hovers at the corner of my mouth, that Aunt Millicent says will be claimed by one who has slipped in and out of heaven.
I hear my brothers saying that that was no thimble, that was a kiss, and a powerful thing.
Something is happening to Peter. Something strange.
It is Hook who states the obvious. "Pan. You're pink!"
The crooked grin that I love is spreading across his face as he soars into the night sky, laughing.
Again, he and Hook begin to fight. But this time, Peter is winning.
"You are old, Hook," he shouts at him as the huge crocodile appears. "Old and alone!"
It does not take a genius to see where this was going.
Anger, and perhaps a trace of sympathy smolder in my eyes as I say "Done for." A note of finality in my tone.
Hook is sinking through the air, babbling about pain and blood as he tries to keep himself afloat with happy thoughts.
The lost boys take up the chant, "Old, alone, done for. Old, alone, done for." Over and over again.
Hook sinks lower and lower as we chant. Finally he agrees "Old. Alone." The crocodile's jaws are opening wider and wider. Last of all, "Done for."
He falls.
The crocodile swallows and falls back into the sea.
We are cheering. Cheering for our victory. The pirates are gone, and we are all alive. Peter stands at the helm, looking pleased with himself.
I know what I feel, but I do not know what he is feeling. So I smile and look up at him. "Oh, the cleverness of you!" I tease him.
He grins at me, and my smile widens.
Fairies pour out of the woods, lifting our ship into the sky and taking us back to London.
I stand next to Peter, saying nothing, but knowing I will treasure this night forever.
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Finish.
