Title: Spirited Away

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Six - Over and Under and In between

Rating: PG13

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy was left in no doubt why Peter had chosen the next bay over for his home. As they descended the headland Wendy felt a chill steal over her as the lush jungle rapidly gave way to scrub and spindly trees, their leaves sparse on blasted branches.

"Oh Peter...this is awful..."

"Now you see why I didn't want to stay here..."

They continued down the slope, the ground beneath their feet changing from the silky, sandy soil of the headland to a gritty powder the colour of grey ash. The contrast between the two pieces of the same coastline was unbelievable unless you remembered that this was Neverland, the island of dreams where anything was possible. At the base of the cliffs they made their way through a forest of black rocks that towered over them, their peaks like daggers pointing at the sky. The beach that opened out after the rocks was covered in grey sand, the waves lapping at the shore sounding like the hiss of sibilant voices, whispering with each ebb and flow.

"I don't like this place..." Wendy whispered, gripping Peter's hand tightly as they progressed to the water's edge. The sun still shone above them but it didn't seem to impart any heat, the looming black cliffs sucking all the light and warmth from the air.

"Imagine how I felt waking up to find myself washed up here!" Peter replied, his voice not a whisper but still hushed.

Looking out over the circle of the bay Wendy could see more black rocks breaking the surface of the sluggish sea, a reef that extended from the end of the headland and stretched out towards open water. Shielding her eyes with her free hand she stared out at the horizon, something moving on top of one of the taller rocks catching her eye.

"Do you see the flag?" Peter asked, noting the direction of her stare.

Wendy squinted harder and stared in disbelief as the flapping blur became a ragged flag.

"There's a ship out there?"

"Yup...I'm assuming it's the one you called the Jolly Roger...unless there was more than one ship sailing these waters."

"Not that I was aware of...goodness it looks to be part of the rocks."

"It is...pretty much...we're lucky there's been no major storms in the past months...apart from what I've stripped from it, it's almost intact, just wedged tight amongst the rocks."

Wendy eyed the expanse of water between the beach and the reef.

"How are we going to reach it?"

"I use a canoe, apparently left by fisherman who trawled the seaweed beds for crabs..."

"Goodness...how do you know that?"

Peter shrugged."Crab shells in the bottom of the boat...a net with seaweed..."

"Oh...of course." Wendy stared at the expanse of water apprehensively, biting her lip. Peter tugged on her hand and led her along the beach to a small outcrop, behind which lay a canoe turned upside down on the gritty sand. Together they righted the boat and carried it to the water's edge. Peter handed her a paddle while he stowed his pack in the bottom of the canoe.

Feeling oppressed by the looming cliffs and dark rocks Wendy rubbed her arms while she waited.

"Climb in, I'll push us out."

Wendy stepped into the boat setting it rocking, seating herself near the front as Peter dug his feet into the beach and pushed the canoe into the water, jumping in behind her as they bobbed over the small waves. Picking up the paddle Wendy looked over her shoulder and Peter indicated for her to take the left side while he paddled the right. Slowly they set out across the bay, leaving the oppressive beach and heading towards the row of rocks laid out like sharp teeth, jagged and black against the blue of the sky.

As the canoe cut through the calm water Wendy glanced down and saw a forest of seaweed swaying with the current just below the surface, the long strappy fronds like hair, undulating with the flow of the water. It looked dark and sinister and Wendy was heartily glad Peter hadn't asked her to swim through it. The little boat continued across the bay until they reached the first of the rocks, the sea swirling around its base, the swell lifting the water up and down the dark edges coated with black mussel shells and grey limpets.

They could now make out the hulk of the ship, canted to one side, its spars and rigging pointing at an angle to the sky like gaunt fingers. Peter steered them closer, only the dip of their paddles and the slap of the waves against the rocks to break the unnatural silence surrounding the wreck. Wendy could see that almost all the canvas had been ripped from the spar's, the ropes hanging in tangled disarray like broken spiders' web.

"Do you see anything you recognize?" Peter's voice coming from behind her made her jump.

"Oh!...er...no...not really...I didn't really see the ship except from the main deck and captains' cabin."

"Then we'll need to get aboard."

Carefully, avoiding the jagged points of rocks appearing and disappearing in the swell, they paddled nearer the hull, Wendy spotting the rope ladder hanging down to the water, the end floating on the surface.

"Is that how you got aboard?" She pointed to the ladder and Peter nodded, manoeuvering their craft to come alongside.

"Climb up and find me a length of rope, I need to tie the canoe to the ladder." Handing over his knife, Peter steadied the boat while Wendy reached for the ladder, the rope slippery and smelling strongly of tar and brine. The hull loomed over their heads like a smooth cliff, the planks stained and dark, coated in black barnacles and tufts of bright green sea weed. Wendy pulled herself up, her feet finding a grip on the old wooden slats of the ladder, each step taking her higher up the side of the ship, Peter, down below, watching her anxiously. Hooking her leg over the side rail, she finally set foot on the deck of the ship. Bending down she found a coil of reasonably thin rope and cut off a length, dropping it over the side to Peter who quickly tied the canoe to the ladder. Within minutes he was clambering over the side of the ship, the pack on his back.

Wendy was picking her way across the wreckage strewn deck, the whole ship tilted at an angle making walking difficult. She was heading for an ornately carved door under the raised deck of the helm. Peter followed, his eyes looking for any sign of changes since he'd last visited.

Wendy reached out a shaking hand to the door, pushing it open and stepping into the short corridor, another door facing her. In her minds eye she remembered Mister Smee opening it for her and the strains of music that drifted out to greet her as she approached. That time the cabin had been full of light from candles and lanterns hanging from the beams and set in elaborate sconces around the room. Now it was shrouded in darkness, the room in chaos with its furniture thrown about and broken. She felt Peter come up behind her and stand at her shoulder, looking in at the carnage.

"This was his cabin...James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." She told him, her voice devoid of emotion. Peter stepped around Wendy as she stood in the doorway, unable to move as a myriad memories swamped her.

"This was where I found most of the trunks with clothes...apart from those, I didn't take anything else. I don't know why, but I didn't want to spend much time in here." Peter stepped over a smashed table, it's once shiny top covered in dust and scratches. Wendy remained near the door, her arms wrapped around her body. She could see what appeared to be the remains of Hook's beautifully decorated harpsichord in one corner, canted on its side, the cover gone, the strings rusted and sprung.

Peter was poking around near the huge dining table, its slab top swept clear of the gilt and gold plate that Wendy had last seen on it, the fine Venetian goblets smashed and twisted on the decking below.

"There's some fine cloth here...it'll make great slings and bandages." Peter called out, bundling the material together before turning to pick his way back to her. Almost back to the door he suddenly let out a yelp and bent double, hopping on one foot.

"Dammit..." Leaning down he fished about on the floor looking for whatever he'd stubbed his toe on in the gloom, his fingers closing around something metallic which he held up in triumph only to hear Wendy let out a cry. In his hand he held a wickedly curved implement that shone dully in the dark cabin.

"What the heck is this?" He asked, turning it to and for, testing the point by thumping it down on a piece of wood where it stuck before he pulled it out again.

"It's his...hook." Wendy explained, feeling a little faint.

"What...Hook's hook?" Peter waggled his eyebrows at her, attempting to lighten her somber mood.

"Don't joke Peter...he had no right hand and used metal hooks instead...there was another one...a double hook he was wearing when the crocodile got him."

Peter swopped the hook from his left to his right hand, slashing it though the air before tucking it into his belt where it glinted dully.

"Come on...lets get the hell out of here...there's nothing we need in this rubbish."

As Peter pushed past her Wendy cast one last look at the room, her eye suddenly caught by a glint from something on the floor. Stepping forward she bent down and brushed her fingers over a small pile of dirt accumulated in one corner by the door. As she cleared the dust a chain appeared, the links so fine it was almost like a thread. Carefully she pinched it between her fingers and pulled, the chain coming free of the planking. It was long and Wendy lifted it until, with a slight resistance it came completely free, something suspended and making the chain swing as Wendy stood upright and held it in front of her face.

"Hey Wendy...look what I found!" Peter's voice made her jump, so intent was her scrutiny of the pendant slowly twirling from her fingers. Not able to see anything clearly in the gloom of the cabin, Wendy lifted the chain and slipped it over her head, the pendant disappearing inside her shirt. Turning on her heel she left the cabin and crossed the corridor to the room opposite.

Peter was peering into a small cupboard half hidden behind a pile of heaped furniture. He was dragging something out and Wendy waited for him to pull it into the center of the room before leaning closer.

"What is it?" She asked, batting her hand in front of her face to clear the cloud of dust swirling in the air.

Peter was clearing a clean patch on the front of the medium sized box, a metal plate dulled by age and dirt clamped across the seam of the lid. Peter was rubbing at an image stamped into the metal and Wendy squinted to try and make out what it was.

"It looks like...a...child...I think." She offered, wetting a finger to clean off more of the dirt. "And there's a name...or initials..." She traced her fingers over the elaborate engraving, trying to make out the letters almost illegible under the scrolls and flourishes. Unable to decipher it, she stepped back. Peter also peered at it but was at a loss to make it out.

"Let's take it with us."

Lifting the box onto his shoulder, he waited for Wendy to lead the way out, following her up the ladder and back to the ruined deck.

Craning her neck, Wendy stared up at the ragged skull and crossbones flag flapping lazily from the top of the mast. Looking down she saw the huge central mast, her mind flooded with memories again. As if in a dream she stepped over and around the littered deck and stood facing the broad wooden column of the main mast. This was where Hook had tied her, her fingers tracing a deep scratch in the wood where his hook had dug into the timber beside her head as he demanded a last story from her. Another long scratch on the side showed where Hook had slashed her bonds, dragging her forward in front of the howling crew before threatening her with the plank. Looking down she saw the hatch where the Lost Boy's and her brothers had sat, bound and crying, surrounded by the motley crew.

"Wendy?"

Peter's concerned voice broke in to her revery, his face swimming into view as she focused once more on the present, the past fading away as she blinked at him.

"Are you alright?" Peter peered at her, noting her far-away look.

"Y-yes...I was just...he made me walk the plank."

"What?"

"Over there." Wendy pointed to a space in the railing. "He blindfolded me and tied my hands...I had to walk out on this horrible plank with the ship rising and falling and the wood wobbling...I was terrified I'd lose my footing," Wendy laughed, the sound not the least mirthful. "But that was the point...wasn't it?"

"Why was he making you walk the plank?" Peter asked, feeling that Wendy needed to tell someone about her experience.

"He found out that you liked me...because all my stories ended in a kiss. He knew you were still alive, that the poison hadn't worked, so he wanted to destroy anything you'd cared for...me."

"Ah Wendy..." Peter sighed in sympathy, any further comment stopped by her fingers against his lips.

"He thought the crocodile was down below, you see...we heard it ticking, and Hook was deadly scared of the beast so he wanted to appease it by feeding me to it...as well as thwart you."

"What happened?"

"I walked the plank, then he made me turn around before he stomped on the plank making it bounce. I managed to keep my balance the first time, but the second...I fell. I was never so scared in my whole life...I thought I was about to die, eaten by a crocodile at the worst, drowned at the very least."

"But you weren't..." Peter prompted when Wendy paused. A smile suddenly lit up Wendy's face, her eyes focusing on him, sparkling with an emotion Peter hardly had time to analyze before she continued her tale.

"You were there waiting to catch me, just before I hit the water...I could hardly believe it...we all thought you were dead from Hook's poison, then we thought you might have survived, but I never expected you to be there at the ship...but you were...you caught me in your arms and we stayed hidden under the plank while Hook wondered what had happened to me, then Tink lured them to the other side of the ship while you took off my blindfold and cut the ropes..."

"I rescued you.." Peter repeated quietly, almost to himself, trying to imagine himself doing what she described.

"Yes Peter...you rescued me...after that, all we had to do was rescue the Lost Boys and my brothers, fight the pirates, defeat Hook and sail home."

"Oh..that's all we had to do?" Peter raised his eyebrows at her, his expression incredulous.

"But that's another story..." Feeling much better for having told him, Wendy suddenly found the day looking a little brighter, the old ship just a forgotten wreck, the ghosts of Hook and her time there laid to rest for a little while. "Didn't you say you brought breakfast?"

"Um...yeah...you want to eat here?"

"Well it must be nearly dinner time...and I certainly don't want to eat on that horridly gritty beach...how about up there?"

Shaking his head at her sudden change of mood, Peter followed her up the tilted companion way to the poop deck where they perched on a pile of rope, Peter emptying out the various supplies he'd packed.

Sitting watching the seagulls bobbing on the calm sea around the ship Wendy munched happily on a piece of coconut while Peter cut up a melon, passing her a juicy slice.

They were no wiser as to the fate of the crew or the ship or why Peter had been washed up on the beach, but Wendy felt that she had faced an important part of her memory, a part that had fueled nightmares for weeks after her return to London. Having related it all to Peter while standing actually on the deck where it all took place had managed to banish her fears, the reality of her standing on the deck and having Peter beside her relegating the nightmares back to the realm of fantasy, having no power to upset her anymore.

Their meal consumed, Peter led them back to the rope ladder where they descended to the canoe, the box taken from the ship stowed in the middle of the boat before they paddled away.

"Can we go around the other side before we leave?" Wendy asked, still puzzling over the fate of the ship and its crew.

"Of course...there's a break in the reef up ahead, it's deep enough for the canoe to pass through."

They paddled the length of the ship, rounding the prow and negotiating the narrow channel cut into the rocky reef. As they approached the sea-ward side Wendy couldn't help a gasp as they saw the extent of the damage. A gash was cut into the side of the hull almost from stem to stern below the water line, as if someone with a gigantic sword had split the craft open, gutting it. Wendy could see ropes and hammocks hanging down inside as well as water sloshing darkly past the jagged splinters of smashed timbers. Some of the timbers appeared to be pointing outward, suggesting that something had exploded out from the ship, the timbers at the opening blacker than the surrounding planks.

"There must have been an explosion...maybe the powder magazine..." Peter commented staring at the damage with little interest having seen it before.

"Must have been...can we go home now?"

Happy to leave the depressing sight of the Jolly Rogers' final resting place, Peter steered the canoe past the ship and back towards the beach, the sea still calm around them. They were both silent on the trip back, Wendy lost in her thoughts, Peter intent on getting them back to shore in one piece.

The grating of the shingle under the hull announced their arrival back at the beach, Peter hopping out and holding it still while Wendy clambered out, taking the almost empty pack while Peter hauled the craft up onto the beach before reaching for the box.

After returning the canoe to it usually resting place, Peter and Wendy crossed the gritty beach and passed through the black rock spires, the path rising rapidly as they headed back over the headland. Before they passed beyond its view, Wendy turned around and stared down at the black cove that had been witness to something momentous, its mystery still unsolved.

Peter's warm fingers wrapping around her own, pulling her from her introspection, her eyes meeting his, his lips pulling in to a slow grin that she mirrored with one that set his heart thumping.

"Let's go home."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The box sat forgotten until after their evening meal, the light of the candles casting shadows that hid it from view, dumped as it was on the floor. Wendy had found a pack of well worn playing cards in one of the chests and the evening was filled with laughter as they played a simple game of snap, Peter setting the candles jumping every time he slammed his open hand down on the cards to capture them. Wendy giggled when he found her hand before him, Peter always making sure he held back so as not to squash her fingers, both of them grinning like fools as Wendy's winnings stacked ever higher.

"Aagh you won again!" Peter cried as Wendy swept up the pile of cards and shuffled them into her own, Peter left with only a handful to play on. "I give up..." He threw the remaining cards into the air to land haphazardly on the table, one floating to the floor. Bending down to pick it up he noticed the box and decided that a distraction was needed.

"Hey, why don't we see what's in that box."

"Oh you...you just don't want me to win outright," Wendy remarked, gathering up the fallen cards before returning them to the painted tin that kept them safely together. Putting them aside she watched as Peter lifted the box onto the table, moving it about to shed as much light on the metal plate as possible. Getting up, Wendy collected a cloth and dampened it before coming back to sit beside Peter as he tried to decipher the inscription. Taking the cloth he wiped at the metal, the dirt lifting and leaving behind a shiny, gold coloured metal.

"Oh look...there's a hole in the center...like a key hole," said Wendy, pointing to the dark indentation, currently filled with dirt.

"I still can't make out what these letters are..." Peter muttered, scrubbing more dirt from the plate.

Wendy traced her finger tip over the scrolls and curlicues, briefly tracing the outline of the childlike figure engraved in the corner. Looking more closely at the letters she pointed to one, "I think...this might be a...P...and this one...it looks the same."

"P...P?"

Wendy almost heard the penny drop in her head. "P..P...Peter Pan!"

"Me?"

"Yes look...it's hard to make out, but it's definitely two P's...one overlaying the other."

"Why would this be aboard the ship?" Peter queried, lifting the box to shake it, his ear pressed to the side. "There's something loose inside, it's rattling," he informed her replacing it on the table.

Wendy stared at the box, tilting her head to look at its sides. " I wonder if there's a secret latch to open it or something."

They spent the next few minutes turning the box in all directions, pressing the smooth surface as well as the few carvings in an attempt to trigger any secret buttons.

"There's nothing happening...and this plate isn't moving..." Peter reached for his knife, preparing to prise the plate off but Wendy put her hand over his.

"It needs a key..." Suddenly remembering the chain she'd slipped over her head, Wendy lifted it out from her shirt, Peter's eyebrows rising as it appeared, the small pendant glinting in the candlelight.

"Where did you find that?"

"In the crack of a floorboard in the Captains' cabin."

"Why didn't you tell me ?"

"I-I...don't know...I forgot about it."

"Hmmmm..." Using the tip of his knife, Peter picked at the dirt in the small hole. "Funny looking key."

Wendy held the pendant in her hand, the metal still warm from contact with her flesh. It was wafer thin, the edge indented with notches, the surface decorated with swirls and scrolls that echoed those on the box. Lifting the length of chain over her head, Wendy pooled it in the palm of her hand, the key too fragile looking for the purpose intended for it.

Peter finished digging what he could out of the slot before using the cloth to clear what was left. Wendy held out the chain and pendant and he lifted it from her hand. Pinching it between his thumb and first finger Peter pushed it carefully into the lock, the pendant sliding in effortlessly. Having inserted it to the hilt, Peter glanced up at Wendy before twisting the key to the right, surprised when it moved smoothly and evenly with no resistance. After a full turn there was an audible click and the metal plate suddenly parted in the middle, the edges formed and cleverly disguised by one of the letter shapes.

Peter and Wendy exchanged another look, both apprehensive for different reasons.

Peter used his knife to prise the lock wider, the box splitting sideways, creating a seam where one had not been apparent before despite their exhaustive search. Concealed hinges allowed the lid to open upwards, revealing the contents. Both Wendy and Peter leaned closer to see inside.

Peter dipped his hand in and pulled out a roll of paper, the vellum yellowed with age, bound with a red ribbons and wax seal. On the seal was the same intertwined letters pressed into the surface. Laying it to one side, Peter delved further, his fingers closing over a velvet pouch which he tipped up, an ornate locket almost as large as his palm falling out.

"Look at this..." Peter held it out on his flat palm for Wendy to look at, the facia of the locket decorated with seed pearls and diamond chips set in sky-blue enamel surrounding a pretty landscape painting set in the center.

"Oh its beautiful." Wendy breathed, touching the painting lightly with her fingertip. After admiring it, Peter placed it on the table and looked once more into the box. Once more putting his hand in he pulled out a cloth wrapped bundle which contained a much smaller box, one Wendy recognized. "It's a ring box!"

Releasing the tiny catch, Peter opened the box and couldn't help his mouth dropping open. Inside sat a heavily engraved gold ring, the outer edge beveled and faceted. Lifting it from the velvet Peter held it between his thumb and first finger and turned it over to catch the light. On the inside of the ring he could see writing deeply cut into the gold.

"For My Beloved...Forever In My Heart." Peter read out, turning the ring around to see the words before passing it to Wendy, dropping it into her cupped palm.

"What lovely words.." Wendy breathed, admiring the intricate pattern on the rings surface, the engraving seeming to form letters but despite peering at it closely she was unable to make them out.

Peter had picked up the scroll, fiddling with the ribbons and turning it over to peer down the center like a telescope. Putting it down he picked up the locket, turning it over and staring at the back where the entwined 'P's were surrounded by an inscription. Tilting it towards the light he read it out.

"For Our Son On The Occasion Of His Birth..."

Finding a catch on the side, he pressed it and the top popped open. Carefully Peter swung it upwards revealing a another lid, this time clear, in which sat a tiny plait of honey coloured hair that curled at the end, tied off with a blue ribbon. Inside the gold lid, set in a filigree frame was a tiny painting of an infant, its tiny round face staring out of the painting with an expression of pained surprise. Leaning over Peter's shoulder Wendy couldn't help but make a moue of amusement.

"Aw what a pretty baby..." She cooed, smirking at Peter's wry expression. "What's in the other side?"

Turning the locket over, Peter activated the catch on the bottom, the plate springing open, this time to reveal two matching miniature portraits of the infants parents. Staring down at them, Wendy felt a chill sweep over her, the mother's eyes staring up at her as if trying to impart some message. Tearing herself away from the mother, Wendy looked at the father and gasped aloud.

"Oh Peter...it's you!"

Despite the man wearing clothes that appeared to be from a previous century and the hair being the wrong colour, the older man could have been the mirror image of the younger man sitting next to her holding the locket.

"Who is he...I don't understand..." Peter whispered, looking up at Wendy for an explanation.

"I-I-I-" Wendy stammered, knowing the truth but not wanting to voice it.

Peter dropped the locket on the table and rose to his feet, backing away from the table. Pointing a finger, he gestured to the jewel sitting discarded on the table top.

"You're going to say they're my parents...aren't you?"

"But Peter...you do look an awful lot like the man, and you have the woman's coloring...would it be so dreadful if they were your parents?"

"Why was that shut away in the box, why was it hidden aboard the ship...what does it mean?"

"I don't know...maybe the parchment will tell us what it's all about."

"NO!...I don't want to know...don't read it!"

"But it will tell us what we need to know..."

"What...what will it tell us...that my parents didn't want me any more? That they gave me away to a-a-a...pirate?"

"You don't know that...maybe Hook stole the box thinking it was treasure...maybe he found it...you won't know unless you read the scroll!"

Keeping an eye on Peter, Wendy reached for the roll of parchment, fingering the wax seal before pulling it away from the ribbon, the wax breaking and crumbing into pieces. Untying the ribbon Wendy carefully unrolled the vellum, the edges cracking as it flattened out. Peter remained in the middle of the room, torn between the overwhelming urge to throw the paper out the window and an equally strong desire to know what had been written about him.

Bringing one of the candles closer Wendy ran her finger over the elaborate script, deciphering the words written in legal cant.

"It's their combined wills..." Wendy said, her forehead furrowed as she worked to understand the convoluted jargon. "It speaks of a son born to Emilia and Phillip Panferris, the Earl and Countess of Strathvern...the son was christened Peter James..."

"Peter James..." came a faint echo from behind her.

Wendy heard the whisper but carried on.

"This document outlines the disposition of their combined estates...leaving it in its entirety to their son...a portion of his inheritance to be granted on the occasion of his twenty fifth birthday...but given the remote possibility of his parents dying before he attained his majority, the boy was to be kept under the wardship of his father's best friend...oh my God..."

"What?"

"The friends name...it's...James Hook, former Captain in the service of His Majesties Admiralty."

"Captain Hook?...the pirate that tried to kill you...kill me?"

"One and the same..." Wendy read further but the rest of the document just detailed the terms of the property entailment. Letting go of the end Wendy watched it roll up, her fingers playing with the faded satin ribbon.

Peter paced behind her, his thoughts chaotic.

"What happened to them...how did I end up here...and with Hook as a pirate?"

"If Hook had this document I can only assume your parents died and you became Hook's ward...how you ended up here and became Peter Pan...I can't begin to solve that mystery."

"What does it mean to be a ward?"

Wendy pondered that. "I suppose it would mean that he...er...Hook would have control of your inheritance until you reached twenty five..."

"And until then?"

"I don't know exactly...I suppose he would be able to dictate how your inheritance was managed...disposed of..."

"And if I were dead?"

Wendy looked up, aghast. Their eyes met across the room, troubled sea-green and shocked blue.

In a sudden move, Peter darted to the table and scooped up the locket, ring box and key chain, throwing them into the box before cramming the scroll in after them. Slamming the lid Peter hefted the box as if to throw it out the window. In desperation Wendy threw herself in his path, wrapping her arms around him to stop him.

"Don't Peter...it's important..."

"It's lies...all lies...I-I-I don't remember!"

Dropping the box to the floor, Peter wrapped his arms around Wendy, burying his face in her hair, shaking from head to toe.

Slowly they sank to the wood floor, never letting go of each other.

"Shhhh Peter...it's alright...you will remember...it doesn't matter...shhhhh," Wendy rocked him in her arms, unconsciously copying her Mother when she soothed one of her brothers if they were hurt. She almost wished they'd never found the box, or that she'd never seen the glint of gold with the key attached in the cabin. But they had and she did and now she knew some of Peter's history, even if it did pose an even greater mystery than before.

"We'll find out what happened...I promise, you'll remember and we'll solve this mystery...shhhh" Continuing to rock him, Wendy held onto Peter as he shook against her, her fingers combing his shawn head, stroking him, calming him.

"H-how can we find out? H-hook is dead...my...my parents must be dead...everyone is...is...dead!"

"I don't know..." Wendy whispered, not at all sure that the mystery could ever be solved if the main participants were unavailable to shed light on the questions raised by the box.

Thinking back to what Peter had told her when they first met, Wendy tried to reconcile that with what she knew.

"Peter...when we met that time in the nursery...you told me that you heard your parents talking about your future...and...and you didn't like what they were saying...so you ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived with the fairies..."

"I said that?"

"You did...I remember because I thought it was so brave...and so exciting..."

"Where's Kensington Gardens?"

"It's a beautiful park in London...there's lots of trees and pretty paths and fountains..."

"Did you ever go there?"

"Once or twice...my Aunt took us to see the lovely flowers.."

"Did you see any fairies?"

"No...but I didn't know you then...and I didn't know that fairies existed either...so they might have been there and I simply didn't see them."

Peter lifted his head from where it had been nestled against her shoulder at looked Wendy in the eye. "But they do exist...you said so. Here, on Neverland."

"Yes Peter...they most certainly do exist."

"Then why haven't I seen them?"

"Well you've heard them...that bell-like sound is how they talk, so they are still here, but why they haven't been around...I don't know. Maybe they're waiting for you to remember them."

"You think so?"

Wendy nodded, refusing to let any doubt colour her answer.

"I'm sure that you have more influence than you think on what happens in this world, this island...you just have to believe."

Biting his lip, Peter ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed to be still clinging to Wendy. Dropping his arms he moved away, coming to sit with his legs folded Indian style, his elbows resting on his knees.

Wendy felt his going keenly, her arms already missing him. Tucking her legs up, she wrapped her arms around them instead, her chin resting on her knees as she watched him.

After a long silence, Peter raised his head and looked back at her. "What are we going to do?"

Lifting her head, Wendy canted it to the side. "We could go looking for them. I know that the fairy tree you showed me was very near the Indian village. Maybe if we go there, we'll find the fairies."

"Do you think they'll know what happened...I mean not just now, but when I was...younger?"

"I think we can try and find them...it can't hurt and maybe it will help you remember."

They lapsed into silence again, the candle starting to gutter before Peter climbed slowly to his feet. Holding out his hand, he helped Wendy to hers, letting go of her hand almost immediately.

"We'll go to the Indian village...it'll take us a day to get there."

Wendy nodded her head, a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

Silently they prepared for bed, Wendy slipping into a lace edged man's nightshirt which reached to below her knees while Peter refilled the water barrel before snuffing the last candle, plunging the tree house into darkness. Wendy already lay on the pallet, facing the room, her eyes drawn to window and the dark trees beyond. Shedding his shirt, Peter crawled onto the mattress behind her, the sail cloth rustling as he flopped down face first.

"Peter?"

"Hmmmm."

"Do you ever dream of flying?"

Silence greeted her question, the minutes ticking by until she thought he must have gone to sleep.

"I have dreams about being underwater...and sometimes I have dreams of running through the jungle...and sometimes I'm swooping through clouds and skimming over the sea, the view impossible unless you're a bird...and I feel so free and light...invincible...as if nothing and nobody can catch me."

Shifting over so that she faced him, Wendy reached out a hand and touched his naked back, Peter's head turned away from her.

"You'll fly again Peter...I know you will..."

Lifting his head Peter turned to face her, his teeth gleaming in the darkness as he grinned at her.

"Will you come and fly with me?"

Wendy grinned back at him. "Anytime..."

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TBC...