Title: Spirited Away
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Nine - What Was Old is New Again.
Rating: PG13+
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Wendy opened her eyes to darkness, blinking not helping as she strained to see something, anything. Her hands were tied behind her back, her feet also bound. By stretching out her legs, her bare toes made contact with a rough wooden wall, her fingers finding more planking beneath her when she rolled onto her back. Rolling onto her other side brought her up against another wall, the rough wood scraping her face before she recoiled. The air smelt musty, no waft of fresh air finding a way into her prison, no chink of light between the planking. With difficulty she wriggled herself around and used her hands to inch her way up the wall, her fingers bloody by the time she managed to lever herself upright. Panting she tried to get on her knees but found that above her head was a low roof, barely enough room for her to sit up, let alone stand up. Her mind filled in the blanks and concluded that she was in a box, panic spiking in her belly as she opened her mouth and screamed, deafening herself in the confined space. Almost at once she heard a scuffle and the roof of her prison suddenly lifted off, flooding the box with light, making her shut her eyes against the glare.
"Tut tut m'dear...so much noise from such a little girl."
Hard hands gripped her under the arms and hauled her out of the plank box, dropping her onto a rock floor where she lay blinking to clear her vision. A man holding a lamp stood over her, crouching down to peer at his captive. Blinded by the lamp, Wendy could only lay on her side and squint up at him, noting his gleaming boots only inches from her head. The rest of him was clothed in midnight blue velvet embroidered with silver thread. His face was in shadow but she could see that he had a head of dark hair that hung past his shoulders in heavy waves. Swallowing she looked at the hand holding up the lantern, noting it to be the man's right hand, meaning that the person she thought it was, wasn't.
"I think it's safe enough to release you now."
A flash of a blade near her face made her flinch, her hands suddenly free, pins and needles making her grit her teeth as circulation returned to her extremities.
"Who are you? Why have you kidnapped me?"
"Oh I think kidnapped is a bit of a strong word...let's just say I thought it was time I did a bit of reconnaissance, found out the lay of the land, so to speak."
"Who are you?"
"Well I would have thought that was obvious, Miss Darling..." The man left the lantern beside her and stepped back apace. Extending one leg he swept her an elaborate bow, his right hand almost sweeping the ground before he lifted his head to stare right at her, the lantern illuminating his face from beneath.
"NO...you're dead!" Wendy's eyes widened fearfully as she beheld the familiar features of one Captain James Hook, formerly of the Jolly Roger.
"Captain Hook at your service fair Wendy." He flexed his right hand, staring at it and smiling before turning back to her. "And all in one piece, as you can see."
"But how?"
"How am I alive? How did I get my hand returned?"
Wendy could only nod, her voice strangled in her throat.
"Well my girl, that's part of the reason I have you here...to explain what the hell is going on in this accursed place!"
Reaching down, Hook grabbed Wendy's shirt front, hauling her upright and bringing her face close to his, his fist twisting the material and making her choke.
"So Wendy Darling...how is it that I find you back here on the island, and, might I say, so grown up?"
Wrapping her hands around his wrist, Wendy fought to free herself, black spots starting to dance in her vision as his choke hold tightened. Just as she thought she'd pass out he abruptly let go, Wendy staggering and falling to her knees, her head dropping to the ground, almost resting on his booted feet.
Gasping she put a hand to her throat while she scuttled, crab-like, across the floor and away from him. Hook followed until he had her bailed up in a corner of the cave room, her head hitting the wall and making her wince.
"Speak up girl! How long have I been...dead?"
"I don't know...I don't know how you can be alive, let alone how long dead."
"Don't play dumb with me...something brought me back from hell, and I'm suspecting that you had something to do with it...you and that flying spawn of the devil, Peter Pan."
Shaking her head, Wendy could only stare up at Hook mutely as he leaned over her, his booted foot striking out and catching her in her side, sending her sprawling again. Hook stared down at her as she fought for air, her arms wrapped around her ribs.
Snorting with disgust he turned his back on her and marched over to the other side of the cave, throwing himself into a chair placed beside a table, both appearing to be relics from his destroyed cabin.
Breathing shallowly to ease the pain, Wendy leaned against the chill rock and stared across the room at her tormenter.
The man was unmistakably Hook, but somehow he was whole again, and looked years younger than when she'd known him, the lines of his face not as deep, his bitterness not so evident in his expression. And he still had his hand, the one Peter had cut off and thrown to the crocodile, only the crocodile was dead now and Hook was still alive.
Hook stared broodingly at the cave wall, his mind turning over what he knew.
He'd awoken back to life, naked and alone in a cave, the sound of the sea booming faintly at the end of a long tunnel. It had been dark and he'd groped his way along the slimy passageway towards the circle of daylight. The entrance of the cave was already flooded with the incoming tide and he had to swim, buffeted by the waves until he was clear of the cliff face. His initial confusion had deepened when he realized he had two hands to use, his right now looking as hale and hearty as his left, both flexible, both strong. His body felt young again with no stiffness or pain, his hair as black as midnight with no hint of grey in the strands. Treading water he stared back at the entrance to the cave that had birthed him, the black rocks rising up like jagged teeth. Turning he saw a reef and struck out towards it, realizing as he got closer that a ship lay wrecked across the rocky spine. With long tendrils of seaweed threatening to drag him into the depths, Hook swam around the wreck until he saw the ladder hanging down.
Nimbly he scramble up and onto the deck to stand dripping amongst the debris of his ship. Shivering he made his way to his old cabin, the door hanging off its hinges when he pulled it open, his eyes sweeping over the remains of his cabin with a mixture of regret at the loss of so many beautiful items and anger at whoever had caused the carnage.
Rummaging produced several suits of clothes, one of which he quickly donned, the habit of dressing feeling strange now he had two hands to help himself. Finding his boots proved harder but not impossible and soon he was feeling more the thing, being warm, dry and dressed as he should be. Arming himself proved the next task, the case with his swords missing from the cabin, despite a lengthy search. Infuriated he left the cabin and made his way to the armory, snatching a cutlass and scabbard from the collection and strapping it about his hips before doing anything else. He also took a brace of pistols, plus ball and powder before returning up and onto the main deck.
Breathing deeply, he stared around him, noting the lack of any bodies or skeletons, his crew having apparently abandoned ship, leaving the Jolly Roger to the mercy of the sea. A glance over the seaward side confirmed that the ship was never going to float again, her belly split open to the sea, gutted and dead in the water. Turning away from the rail he marched to the landward side, staring at the grey beach only a decent swim's reach away. Looking at the surface of the water he could see the oily strands of seaweed barely below the water and surmised that anyone foolish enough to try would be dragged down and drowned by the tangling arms of the weed before they got further than a length from the ship. What he needed was a boat.
Making his way up to the poopdeck, he peered over the stern of the ship and grinned. Hanging halfway down, tangled in a mess of ropes, was the small painter used to ferry goods to and from the dock. Cutting it free, he lowered it to the sea and rowed himself to the shore, the boat grating on the gritty sand as he pulled it above the high tide line.
Standing with his left hand resting on his sword hilt, Hook surveyed Neverland with a jaundiced eye. He remembered his last encounter with Peter Pan, remembered the desperation as he tried to remain aloft, the crocodile leaping almost its length out of the ocean, its jaws wide in anticipation. The last thing he remembered was seeing Pan sweep his sword down in a final, damning signal, his despair as the children chanted him to his death - old, alone, done for. And then he was, the jaws of the beast closing around him with crushing force, darkness blinding him as he died inside the creature, done for, forever.
But now, without explanation or good reason, here he was again, reborn, renewed, no longer old, no longer done for, still alone but then when had he ever not been alone.
Squaring his shoulders and brushing off his lapels, James Hook set off in search of whatever lay in wait for him, his purpose unclear and his resources insubstantial but his desire burning bright - to find Peter Pan and end the brats' existence once and for all.
Now he sat brooding in a cave, staring at the means to his nemesis end, Wendy Darling, Peter Pan's Achilles heel, Hooks for the taking, like candy from a baby.
He had been shadowing the Indian encampment ever since he'd found it, sure that at some stage Peter Pan would visit his redskin friends and his patience had been rewarded. He'd watched their arrival the day before through his telescope, laughing to see them incarcerated, surprised to see that the brat and his lady love were no longer children but several years older, Peter almost as tall as himself, and Wendy - well she had grown into quite a delectable morsel. How easily he'd been able to pluck her from his side, the stupid boy so intent upon his fairy flummery he'd lost his lady to a pirate, without even noticing.
Hook laughed out loud at the ease with which he had snatched her away, holding out his two hands and flexing them, loving the feel of the muscles and tendons as he fisted his hands then spread them out wide.
This time he'd win, this time it would be Peter who would be bested, who would be beaten and cowed. He might even cut off a hand, or a foot to remind the brat of the moment, an unforgettable reminder, a scar that would make him repulsive to the women that used to flock around him, make him a creature of darkness, to hide away from, to scare people away.
All of this Hook would bring him, all of that would Hook wish upon his fair head.
"And you, fair Wendy, will be the instrument of his downfall."
Hearing her name drew Wendy out of her haze, her eyes flicking to the man in the chair, her lips pressed together to prevent a cry of pain and fear passing them.
"What do you want with me?"
"What do I want? Why child...I want Peter Pan at my feet, I want him cowed and beaten...I want him...dead!"
"No..." Wendy's moan as she turned her head away infuriated Hook. He pushed himself out of the chair and marched over to her, crouching down and reaching for her face, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. Her wide blue eye stared up at him, Hook feeling a rush of satisfaction to see fear staring back at him.
"What I want, m'dear, is for your beloved Peter Pan to come and rescue you...which I'm sure as eggs is eggs, he will do." Still gripping her chin he turned her face from side to side, noting the way her mouth trembled in fear but her eyes spat defiance. "You certainly have grown into a bonny baggage, I wonder if the Pan has even noticed what he has under his nose. Has he kissed you again, I wonder?"
"That's none of your business!" Wendy tried to wrench her face out of his fingers but found herself held tight.
"So he has. Has he gone further I wonder."
Unable to control her bodies reactions, Wendy blushed under Hook's knowing look, the man's eyebrow climbing as he felt the heat in her skin. "I see, rash youth, always too eager, they never appreciate taking their time."
Without warning Hook tilted Wendy's head back, his own coming down as he fastened his mouth over her, his hard lips grinding against hers in a savage kiss that left her breathless and shaking when he finally released her. Drawing back Hook stared at her lips for a second before rising up to tower over her, his hands resting on his hips.
"Let us hope the impetuous youth doesn't come for you too quickly, I think I'll enjoy having you as my captive for a little while yet."
Angry at herself for not resisting more, Wendy raised her arm and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, glaring daggers at Hook as he laughed and returned to sit in the chair, one long leg draped over the arm.
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Peter stared at the bowed backs of the redskins searching for, but finding no sign of Wendy. Relaxing his arms he approached the nearest brave and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man raised his head Peter spoke to him, unknowingly in his native language.
"Where is the girl who was with me?"
"She is gone."
"Gone?"
"When we came in search of you, we saw her taken by the spirit."
Others were starting to look up, listening to Peter and the brave.
"She was taken that way." One woman pointed off into the darkness, others nodding their agreement.
Peter felt a spike of fear twist his gut, his joy at rediscovering his memory destroyed by anxiety for Wendy. Above his head hovered the fairy that had restored him, her chimes ringing in his ears.
"What do you mean I'm too weak to go against him? Who are you talking about?" Peter had turned his back on the Indians and was striding through the ferns, the fairy bobbing in front of his face.
"You cannot face him yet...there is still much you must do." It chimed, batting at him with her wings to stop him.
"I don't understand!" Peter growled, stopping when the fairy flew into his face.
"That is why you must stop...first you must restore us to our number."
"Restore you?"
"I am all that is left of the fairy population...if you do not restore us, we will cease to exist all together."
"How do I do that?"
"You just have to believe."
"But..." As he spoke a memory of holding a tiny body in his cupped hands jumped into his head. "Tinkerbell." Peter breathed.
"Yes...yes, remember she that you brought back...now you must do the same for us."
"But...all I did..." Peter stared at the tiny sprite as she nodded her head vigorously. "All I said...was...I do believe in fairies."
As the words dropped from his lips a tiny flicker of light sparked into life, growing quickly into another sprite who danced around his head.
"I do believe in fairies." Peter said again, and again a light sparked into being, the two joined by a third. Understanding what he had to do, Peter turned back to where the Indian's were gathered.
"I do believe in fairies, I do, I do...I do believe in fairies, I do, I do..." As he chanted the brave he'd spoken to started to say the same phrase, quickly joined by others until the entire forest rang with the sound of their voices, all chanting as Peter, each completion of the chant bringing forth a pinprick of light that in turn evolved into another fairy. Very quickly the air above their heads was filled with a multitude of sprites in every colour and hue, their light making the clearing as bright as day, darting and swirling in spirals of colour, ever higher among the trees, sprinkling fairy dust on everything and turning it golden.
Abruptly Peter signaled and the grove fell silent, only the musical chimes of the fairies filling the sudden quiet as Peter walked into the center of their throng, his body glowing with a golden light as fairy after fairy approached to touch him.
As the Indian's watched in awe, Peter spread his arms wide and rose into the air, clothed from head to foot in gold, the fairies fluttering around him as he rose, swirling in a spiral, Peter at its center. As the throng rose individual fairies started to dart off is all directions, fluttering off into the darkness like sparks, weaving and dodging until they disappeared into the night. Those left continued to spiral ever upwards, leaving Peter behind until they disappeared from sight, Peter floating back to the ground and the Indian's waiting patiently.
He lifted his head and stood once more, arms akimbo, facing the redskins.
At some hidden signal the people all stood, the Chief pushing his way to the front.
"We did not recognize you as the Pan. We are sorry we treated you badly."
"That is not important Chief...what is important is finding out who or what has taken my Wendy. I've sent the fairies to search where they can, but I think you know something."
"We only know what you have already heard. The spirit took her off into the trees."
"What is this spirit...what form does it take?"
"It is the form of the man who is dead...was dead."
"Are you saying...no, I have no idea what you are saying."
"Pan...the man who was dead, who appeared as a spirit and took your woman...is Hook."
Peter stared at the chief in disbelief. "How can this be?"
The Chief spread his hands wide. "How can any of this be...you appear to us as an ordinary boy, but now you are undoubtedly the Pan. There have been no sprites in these woods for a very long time, now there are more than one can count. You said that we were not here before...but here we are...come forward Rising Dawn."
A woman stepped forward, her features pretty but far older than the face Peter remembered. "Tiger Lily?"
"No...my name is Rising Dawn...my mother's name was Tiger Lily."
"But she was...I remember her as a girl."
"It would seem that time has become...flexible." The Chief suggested, waving Rising Dawn back and taking Peter by the arm. "It is said among my people that the past, present and future are not fixed, but a moment that moves back and forth, faster and slower depending on the view of the watcher. To us, we have never left this place, have been here many generations. But to you, we appeared to have gone, then come back,and you have gone from a boy to a man. Now a man who was dead has come back to life. I think it is all part of a circle."
"Circle?"
"Of life and death and this place."
"You mean Neverland."
"We call this place another name, one whose meaning had been lost in the mists of the ancestors until now. Kiansenchu, the island of no tomorrows."
"Neverland."
"All things are possible here, you have seen that yourself. They follow no rules but their own and we are just travelers sharing the same path."
"Then what am I?"
"You are what binds it all together."
Overwhelmed, Peter pressed his hands to the sides of his head and dropped to the ground. "What does it all mean?"
"It means, my son that you can decide what happens here." Kirano's voice made Peter's eyes pop open, the small man sitting cross legged in front of him, the Indians no longer in evidence.
"Where did they go?"
"Back to their lives."
"Kirano...I don't understand."
"It is not important that you understand...it is important that you believe."
"I don't..."
"Do you remember what happened now?"
"There was an explosion aboard the ship, someone got careless and the magazine blew."
"You were gravely injured Peter...more than the island could repair."
Peter stared at the native, unsure what to say. Kirano sighed and continued.
"If we had done nothing you would have ceased to exist...all this would have died. We chose to live...we restored you but had to advance your development, in the process losing your memory of the time before. You survived and awoke on the shore."
"And Wendy?"
"When it became clear that you were not recovering your memories, and therefore not being who you were, we decided that you needed someone to remind you. We had a choice...use your greatest enemy, or your greatest love."
"You snatched her from her world and brought her here."
Kirano nodded."Because we had aged you, we had to age her...it was a simple enough decision."
"And Hook?"
"That was something we overlooked. As your memory returned, so did the those things you'd forgotten."
"The chest we found, the locket."
"Yes...it revived his memory, and revived the man as well."
"Why has he taken Wendy?"
"Because she is important to you...he and you have a history that stretches back a long way...to a time even before this place."
"I was his ward."
"He was your guardian as a child, yes."
"Why have I never been told about that?"
"Who would have told you? Hook? He understands the nature of this place, he knows that he could never leave and claim the fortune that he plotted to gain. If he went back, then you would assuredly go back as well and if you were alive, then it all belonged to you. It was a no win situation, so he chose instead to remain here."
"That is why he hates me so."
"You start to understand at last Pan."
"I have to find her."
"Yes you do...and I you will."
Closing his eyes, Peter drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again Kirano was gone. As he stared around at the now empty glade he felt some of the fear leave him. He was not alone, he was not unloved and he was certainly not done for.
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Wendy stumbled again and Hook's grip on her arm tightened painfully. Early dawn light was starting to streak the clouds with pink and gold as she fought to right herself, Hook's breath hissing against her ear as she tried to resist his pull.
"Trying to slow me down m'dear?"
"I tripped." Wendy gasped, pulling back to put some distance between them. Not releasing his hold Hook tugged her forward once more and they continued along the track, Wendy gritting her teeth as his fingers dug into her flesh. "You're hurting me."
"If you can't keep up I'll be forced to drag you...and I think you'll find that infinitely more painful, now pick up your feet."
Still resisting Wendy took greater care to look out for roots as they carried on, her head twisting around as she searched for any sign that they were being followed.
"You'll twist your pretty head off your neck if you don't stop." Hook remarked, suddenly stopping and jerking her around to face him. Wendy stared up into his pale blue eyes, her own wary as if he was a snake waiting to pounce.
"You are wise to fear me my dear..."
"I don't fear you...I despise you."
"Goodness gracious, such strong emotions from one so young."
"You plan to kill Peter...what else do you expect me to feel?"
"And do you understand why I want to kill him?"
"You want his inheritance."
Hook stared at her in surprise. "Now how do you know about that?"
"We found a box..."
"Ahhhh...the Panferris box. So you know everything...does he?"
"Yes...we know that you were his guardian, supposed to look after him until he came of age."
"Yes...I was. Emilia and Phillip were my closest friends...they even named their son for me."
"I know...Peter James. How could you betray him, a child, you were supposed to care for him!"
"Why? It doesn't matter now...it is all far too long ago to worry about why."
As if suddenly recalling where he was, Hook shook his head, resuming his pace, dragging Wendy alongside him.
"It's all ancient history, m'dear...time to worry about more recent events I think."
Unable to catch her breath, Wendy could only gasp and try not to fall as they burst from the cover of the jungle onto a slope leading down to a dark beach.
"I know this place!" Wendy said, staring at the tall black spires at the base of the headland off to the right.
"It's where I was reborn, you might say. But come, let's not tarry. I saw one of those infernal insects following us, I'm sure it's already winging its way back to our hero, he'll be following hot foot once he knows where to find you."
With a surge of anger, well laced with fear, Wendy suddenly twisted free of Hook, her toes digging into the coarse sand as she ran for her life, her hair blinding her as she tried to escape. The sound of Hook's boots behind her spurred her on, her breath coming out as sobs as she tripped, sprawling, only to scramble up again and continue her flight. She had almost reached a low spine of rocks when Hook tackled her, both of them going down onto the hard shingle. Wendy had the breath knocked out of her, crushed under Hook's weight, her feet kicking at him as he wrestled to capture her flailing hands. In the ensuing struggle she managed to land a kick that made him grunt and relax his grip, her body twisting out from under him as he curled up. On all fours she tried to get away, only to have his hand close around her ankle, yanking her leg out from under her.
"Enough witch!" Hook panted, pulling his fist back and letting fly, catching Wendy on the jaw and knocking her out cold. Getting up on one knee, Hook paused to catch his breath before rising to his feet. With his hands on his hips he stared down at the girl laying unconscious on the shingle, her hair spread out around her like silk, a bruise already forming on her face from his blow.
"Troublesome wench...now I'll have to carry you." Reaching down he pulled Wendy's arm to get her upright then slung her over his shoulder so she hung down his back. With an easy stride he walked to where he'd left the boat, throwing Wendy into the shallow bottom before pushing it out into the water. Rowing steadily he made for the wreck of his ship, the sea rising and falling in an oily swell as his oars dipped and rose over the surface. On reaching the side of the Jolly Roger he secured the boat before heaving Wendy once more over his shoulder and climbing the rungs to the rail of the ship. Once aboard he strode with his insensible burden to the main mast, kicking the debris out of the way before securing her against the scarred wood. Wendy hung in the ropes like a ragdoll, her hair hiding her face as Hook finished tying her tightly before stepping back.
"That should hold one interfering female...time to prepare a trap for Peter Pan."
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As the sun rose above the horizon, Peter was receiving the news of Wendy's whereabouts from one of his fairy friends, the sprite quite breathless from his headlong rush from the black bay to Peter's treehouse.
Peter had returned to his home to prepare. If it was to come down to a battle between him and Hook he was going to go fully equipped, Hook's dueling blades secured to his back, his knife at his belt, the locket around his neck with the ring looped through the chain. He had kept his leaf costume rather than change into Hook's old clothes, his leaves feeling like a second skin, at once both familiar and strange. The locket hung heavily around his neck, resting over his heart, his fingers brushing over the entwined lettering as he thought of the questions he's get answers for before he ended Hook's existence for the second time for daring to lay hands on his Wendy.
As he ate a hasty meal the fairy flew erratically through the window, fluttering to the table top exhausted. Peter listened intently as the creature relayed its information, Peter's knuckles turning white as the fairy related Hook's treatment of his captive.
"I'll gut the codfish...I'll string him from the yard arm..."
With a sweep of his hand Peter cleared the table, the plates and food clattering to the floor. Turning on his heel he ran to the wide window and launched himself into the air, the sun blinding him for a moment before he cleared the tree tops, his head turning towards the coast, his mouth set in a grim line.
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A wind was rising, whistling through the tangled lines hanging down from the sail arms, the ship shifting against it rocky berth as the formerly calm sea started to foam, the swell dragging at the torn edges of the ships mortal wound, the booming of the waves like the tolling of a bell as they battered the guts of the wreck.
Hook waited, concealed in the shadows of the wheelhouse, his guns held at the ready as the thickening clouds plunged the morning into gloom. Clearly visible from his vantage point, Wendy still hung insensible against the main mast, her body held upright by the crisscross of ropes binding her to the wood, her head hanging forward, hair covering her face.
"If that isn't enough to draw you out, I don't know what is." Hook murmured to himself, glancing up at the turbulent sky.
The clouds gathering above suddenly sent a spike of white light across the island, lightning lending an eery sharpness to the scene, the smell of ozone sharp against the brine of the ocean. The clap of thunder a few second later sounded muted and distant but indicative of the gathering storm.
"Stamp your feet all you like boy...you don't fool me." Hook muttered as another flash of brilliant light illuminated the deck and the girl tied to the mast. The sky was rapidly darkening, the wind swirling around the deck, tugging at the remnants of sailcloth and singing through the ropes like a banshee. The waves were getting bigger, the ship groaning as they smashed their way into the hold, gutting the ship further. To add to the fury, rain started to slash down, running in rivulets over the deck, cascading off the eaves of the doorway where he waited. Hook felt like laughing as the tempest raged over the remains of the Jolly Roger.
Another flash of light blinded him and he put up his arm to shield his eyes momentarily. When he lowered his arm he felt his lips pulling into a grin. "There you are."
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Peter felt a turmoil of emotions churning inside him, the weather reflecting his mood as he hovered above the wreck. It appeared deserted as it had always been but he knew better. Down there was Hook, probably waiting to ambush him, but also Wendy. As he circled the ship a flash of lightning illuminated the deck and he gasped to see the slight form bound to the mast, her torn shirt fluttering in the rising wind, her hair hiding her face, body unmoving. With his heart twisting in his chest, Peter descended to the deck, casting a quick look about before approaching the motionless figure hanging like a puppet with its strings broken and tangled.
As he reached out a hand towards her a loud noise and the splintering of wood near Wendy head brought his head around. The shot had come from the doorway of the wheel house and Peter quickly put the mast between him and his concealed enemy.
"Can't have you thinking you can just waltz off with me captive now...bad form, don'tcha know."
"What have you done to her Hook?"
"Oh she's alive...for the moment. Just taking a little nap. She would insist on trying to escape and she's such a slight little thing, I'm afraid I may have hit her too hard."
A red mist started to rise in Peter's vision, his hand reaching up for the sword held over his shoulder. He drew it out slowly, letting the blade slide against the scabbard with a grating noise clearly audible over the storm.
"I'll make you pay for every injury you've inflicted on her...and take pleasure in doing so!"
"My, my...so bloodthirsty...and all because of a girl." Hook sneer made Peter grit his teeth as he drew the second sword from its scabbard, again allowing the sound to carry across the deck to the hidden pirate.
"But she's not just any girl, is she Peter...she's a Wendy. And all grown up, to boot."
"You're not fit to mention her name!" Peter shouted, darting across to a pile of debris, working his way towards the dark doorway concealing Hook.
"Oh I've done more than just mention her name, dear boy. But let us leave Wendy out of this little conflict, it's very rude to talk about someone when they are unable to speak for themselves." Seeing Peter coming closer, Hook moved himself to the other side of the door, his second pistol tracking Peter as he darted to another sheltering pile of debris. "She said you found the chest...so you know who I am, who you are."
"I know that my parents trusted you to take care of me...what changed? When did you decided that killing me was more profitable than remaining my guardian?"
"There was no profit brat...I was left to care for a puling babe who would one day have it all..everything I wanted for just a few short years while you grew to your majority...then it would all be taken away. Fate had already taken away the one person I wanted above all others...I was not prepared to allow his brat to take the rest."
"Did you kill my parents?"
"Stupid boy...why would I want to kill the love of my life. Your father, damn him, was an arrogant bastard full of his own importance. He took her away from me, stole her love from me. He killed her, killed them...and left me with his spawn, as if that could replace her."
The rain blinded him momentarily and Peter paused to wipe his face, a flash of lightning revealing Hook in the doorway, his face contorted with remembered grief and anguish.
Most of what Hook was saying washed over him, his focus all on facing the man that had stolen his future and become his enemy.
As Peter moved to another hiding place Hook suddenly raised his remaining pistol and fired, the shot taking off the corner of the box where Peter crouched, the splinters flying in all directions, one larger piece glancing across Peter's cheek and drawing blood. With his pistols spent, Hook drew his cutlass and stepped out of the doorway, the rain instantly soaking his suit of clothes, turning them black.
"Afraid to face me boy?" Hook shouted above the crash of thunder that rent the sky. "Your father was a coward, are you following in his footsteps?"
With a yell, Peter leaped the wooden case and ran at Hook, the two swords flashing as he leap to engage the pirate captain. Hook was ready for him and the blades clashed together, Peter's eyes widening as he noted Hook's complete right hand holding a wicked stiletto. Hook saw his glance and grinned. "You're fighting a whole man this time Pan. Think you can beat a real man, not a cripple?"
"Never thought of you as a cripple Hook...if I ever thought of you at all."
Pushing away they stood a scant foot apart, eyes locked, sea-green on ice-blue, blades raised with deadly intent.
"Hardly a fair fight if you're going to fly away at any moment."
"I won't fly...and since when did you fight fair?"
"Good point!" Hook hissed, landing a blow on Peter's blade as he feinted with the long knife, Peter blocking that with his other sword. Within the limited space of the rain soaked deck they fought back and forth, parrying and feinting, blocking blows and lunging, the air filled with the sound of metal on metal, punctuated with the grunts and heavy breathing of the combatants. Used to Hook fighting left handed, Peter had to rapidly change his defense as the pirate swapped his blade to his right, almost slipping under Peter's guard with one slash, the tip of the cutlass nicking Peter's arm and drawing blood.
"Out of practice are we boy?" Hook panted as they paused, both breathing heavily.
"Out of breath old man?" Peter retorted, flicking up his blade and making Hook flinch back. Hook's eyes narrowed and he suddenly swung his blade, cutting through a hanging rope. Peter risked a glance up in time to see a huge wooden block and tackle swinging towards his head, Peter ducking as it swept over his head, Hook taking advantage and lunging forward only to find his blow blocked as Peter spun and parried.
"Nice try Hook...got any more tricks up your sleeve?"
"More than a dog has fleas, brat."
With a slashing blow Hook pressed forward, forcing Peter back, his bare foot tangling with some rigging and sending him to the deck. With a cry Hook stabbed downwards, intending to spit his opponent but found him gone, the point of his sword sticking in the wet wood of the deck.
With the rain all but blinding him, Peter regained his feet and savagely back slashed Hook, catching the man as he released his blade, a long thin gash opening up on Hook's cheek, close to his eye.
Backing away, Hook wiped the blood away on his sleeve, staining his lace cuff crimson. As Peter raised his swords, Hook stepped back and slashed another rope, a rumble alerting Peter to a net dropping from a spar above him. Throwing himself sideways he somersaulted and found his feet despite the slippery deck just as the heavy net landed on the deck beside him.
"Missed again Hook!" Peter taunted, dancing just beyond the pirates reach as he lunged.
As Hook raised his cutlass the ship lurched over to seaward, tilting the deck to an impossible angle, tossing Hook and Peter off their feet, Peter sliding across the deck to fetch up against the railing, Hook snagging a rope to halt his slide.
A spar, loosened with the wind, came crashing down between the protagonists, opening a hole in the deck, smashing its way into the hold. Down on one knee, Peter saw Hook haul himself across the deck and disappear inside the wheel house. The ship tilted again, rocking violently with the force of the waves pounding it against the reef, more debris raining down on the deck as Peter sheathed his swords and lifted off the deck to reach the main mast. Wendy still hung loosely in the ropes, her body swinging back and forth with each roll of the ship. Peter drew his knife and slashed at the ropes holding her, her body falling into his arms, pulling him to the deck where he held her, his hand slipping inside her drenched shirt to find her heart beat, her feeling skin cold to the touch. Gathering her against his body, he lifted into the air, dodging the wildly swaying main mast, the ship now rolling on to its side with each wave, ropes whipping through the air like snakes, almost snagging Peter as he cleared the mast, angling to the right to head for the island, Wendy held securely in his arms.
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TBC...