LOOK AT ME! she screamed, but of course he heard nothing. She zipped around his head, forced her light to scream and spark like a miniature sun, but still he looked away.

I'M HERE FOR YOU! she cried. FORGET HER! I'M ENOUGH!

Nothing.

In her all-consuming hate and fury, Tink sent one final arc of light at him and bolted from the room before he could scold her for burning him. What was WRONG with him?

Hadn't she always been there? Much longer than that foppish- that ungainly- that stupid Wendy. She was a light in his darkness, the one creature he could always count on. She let him fly.

Streaming ribbons of light like a comet, she raced the leaves in the wind and twisted erratically in the fading dusk sun. The scent of rain flavored the next gust of wind, and she paused in her display to taste it. It was strong. Must be a storm coming.

Tink fluffed her pixie dust and let herself fall, folding her wings and closing her eyes. She plummeted like a stone, and it was in moments like these that she was truly conscious of her gift of flight.

Somewhere below her, she could hear a lost boy begin to make a ruckus as he watched her descent, but she perked only a few feet before the tree line and disappeared into the foliage.

Let them think her injured, or broken. It wouldn't kill them to think of someone else for a change, and it wasn't like Pan would care anyway.
Her light threw a globe of warm yellow on the leaves around her, steadier and brighter than a candle flame. A pair of brilliantly plumaged birds raised their heads to her, and they shared moment of curious silence.

Tink liked her life here. She liked the freedom, and she liked the beauty of the endless green and the deep blue sea. She liked the lost boys, because they made her laugh. And most of all, she liked Peter. Peter with the gleaming blue eyes and the air of trouble and the smile that made the sun shine. He was her light in the darkness, too. But now he had that WENDY. SHE could fly, and SHE could talk, and SHE had decided to leave. Who could be so stupid? To leave this place, of wild, unbridled beauty and flight and eternal youth? To leave him?
But she had. And now, all he wanted to do was pine.

Tink was too small to feel more than one thing at a time, and right now, her fury faded to rejection. He didn't want to go tease the mermaids, or slash leaks in the Jolly Roger, or show her his scars or anything fun like that. He WANTED to go find Wendy and curl up with her, and listen to her stories, and play with her almond-colored hair. Except that he wouldn't admit it.

Rejection transmuted. It became something else; something deeper; something nameless. It was cold and painful, but it also burned her. It was the thing that drove women to spite, that made Queens rule, that was about to make little Tink do something she'd never in a thousand years thought to do before.
Pan didn't want her. Fine. She didn't want him. She'd been alone before he came, and she'd be alone after he left. She was the only one she could really depend on- not some too-pretty boy with a wild heart and warm golden skin.

The birds were gone in a moment, leaving behind only a dusting of feathers and some noisy squawks. She took a queue from them and bolted straight through the canopy just as a striped little tree-cat landed sharp claws where she'd been. It looked up at her with reflecting yellow eyes and she stuck her tongue out at it.

The moon was in fine form tonight; full and glowing with muted white light. Perhaps later she'd fly up to meet it- she hadn't done that for a long time. Usually she was in bed right now, curled in the leaf-hammock Peter had made for her one night, lined with rabbit fur he himself had caught. But not this night. Tonight she could hear the eerie, sad music issued from his panpipes, and it only hardened her resolve.

She streaked over the sea, watching her own reflection in the shimmery-dark water. She could see sleeping mermaids curled in the depths and outlines of hungry sharks who wouldn't mind a tasty little skybird like her.

Ha ha! she scolded them, darting away from the white waves of water they splashed up at her. Ha ha.

The Jolly Roger was all-aglow tonight, as well. Its square black flag flew merrily from the mast, announcing to all who cared to look that pirates be here.

No one noticed the tiny glowing pixie that landed upon one glass window. Inside, Hook and his whining mate...Smatter? Smother? Smeemer? were consulting an oversized map. She had no doubt she knew what they were looking for.

She lifted one tiny hand and pounded on the pane. The incessant tinkling that followed her everywhere caught their attention, so she shook herself violently and brought them both over to the window.
Hook's mouth was open; he seemed absolutely shocked. Smee looked incredulous.

"Why, hello, little faery. And why are you out on such a cold, blustery night?" the captain asked, as he opened the window. Tinkerbell flitted inside and landed on the map they had been perusing earlier.

Something to show you, she mimed.

Hook and Smee traded glances. "Oh, really?" The captain drawled.