Disclaimer: There were no Captain Hooks, Wendy Darlings or Peter Pans hurt in the writing of this chapter. Oh, and they aren't mine either.
It was raining in Neverland. Not the usual, cheerful sun-shower. Instead, it was a mournful sort of rain as if the sky were in despair. It seemed that shadows haunted the magical island. Not a creature stirred from its warm, comfortable home. Most were content to sleep the day away. Two such sleepers lay in a darkened cabin in the foreboding ship anchored not far from land. They lay side by side, resting after a long, horrible ordeal. Neither noticed the twinkling of bells and the sparkling trail of magical light as it made its way through the cabin.
It examined each figure searching for any signs of waking. Both had been out for hours and looked liked they wouldn't be returning to consciousness for hours yet. Just as well, as it couldn't risk being spotted. The plan was going along smoothly, as it should. There was no one to get in the way and the girl on the bed was strong. Everything would go smoothly.
After one last look, the light sped out of the cabin and into the rain, dodging raindrops as it went. Soon, it disappeared into the foliage of the island.
Wendy Darling sat at the large desk in the Captain's cabin on the Jolly Roger, glaring daggers into the wood of the door. There was nothing the poor door could have done to the storyteller. It was not locked. In fact, it opened quite easily, without even a squeal of the brass hinges. It was not the door that Wendy's anger was directed. Instead, it was for the man with a hook for a right hand, who was undoubtedly avoiding her.
It was a few days after the incident, three in fact. Enough time for Wendy to just about drive herself mad with frustration. She could not figure out why Captain Hook kept himself as far from her as he could. She had kissed him, yes, but only to save herself and return him to normal. Was he ashamed of his daemon rage? Or embarrassed that she'd kissed him?
Wendy woke up early every morning and Mr. Smee would bring her breakfast and tell her a lie to keep her from seeking out Hook herself. He was always "dealin' wi' the men" or "whippen' the crew into shape" and "shouldna be bothered". She'd keep herself busy, usually with the books that lined the shelves. She nearly always retired late after staying up to wait for him, but he didn't return.
The day before, Wendy had woken in the middle of the night after a particularly haunting dream. When she calmed herself, she noticed that beside her lay the infamous pirate captain, sleeping soundly. So he did return, but not until he was sure she was deeply asleep. Wendy was getting fed up with it. She longed for someone to speak with and books could only keep her occupied for so long. She was filled near to burst with questions and worry.
The storyteller moved from the armchair and hesitantly stepped out on deck. No one had told her to stay in Captain Hook's quarters, but she shouldn't help but feel she was breaking some sort of rule. There were the usual bored looking pirates, each with a bottle of rum by their side, resting and chatting casually with each other. A few glanced toward her, but they left her to herself.
It had been a marvelous day in Neverland, though Wendy had missed it. There was a delightful sunset now, however, and she was determined to enjoy it. In London, she never witnessed anything like it. It was like the climax of a wonderful story--passionate, fiery, and with the sad aura of finality.
"Pretty, isn' it?"
She's been so lost in her thoughts that she started. It was only Mr. Smee. He seemed to enjoy coming up behind her unannounced. He was very good at it. "Yes, it's extraordinary."
"The Cap'n enjoys it, as well."
There was silence for a time.
Wendy said, "I have a need to go ashore."
The older man gave her what could almost be a horrified look. His mouth dropped open and his bushy white eyebrows disappeared into his shaggy white mane. "W- Why?"
"I need to speak with Peter. It won't take me long. I've only a few questions for him. I should be back before you know it."
If possible, his eyebrows seemed to rise even higher. "Ye wan' ta leave now!"
"If it's alright."
He scratched the back of his head; thinking. "Well, I suppose. 'S 'long as the Cap'n doesn' see. Ye promise not ta be too long?"
"I promise."
It ended up taking far longer than she originally planned. She swatted a night insect away from her face and wiped the sweat from her brow. There was no doubt about it, she was lost. Surrounded by endless forest, it was no wonder. Every tree and bush looked identical. The sun had gone down fully a few hours before, making it more difficult to navigate. Wendy was no longer trying to find Peter. Since Captain Hook found his lair years before, thanks to Wendy's naivety, the boy must have found another home. It would be nearly impossible to find without the boy's guidance.
Finding the shore was much more difficult than finding Peter's home. The crickets and other night creeps and crawlies were making such a cacophony of sound that she couldn't hear the dull roar of the waves breaking against the sand. She could hardly see what lay before her, even with the light of the moon and stars. She was becoming more and more weary. Sighing heavily, she sat down hard on the forest floor. Mr. Smee must be worrying himself frantic. There was nothing she could do, however, as lost as she was. There was no other option, but to break her promise and find her way back in the morning when she could see. If she was fortunate, there would be a longboat waiting for her.
As tired as she was, it wasn't easy to sleep. Wendy had never had to sleep entirely unsheltered before. Even on her last visit, the Lost Boys had built her a cozy little house. There were strange sounds that made her jump, roaming shadows that contributed entirely too much to her active imagination, and as the sun went down the island had cooled until she sported goosebumps on her arms and legs. To add to her miserable state, her stomach growled in protest from not having eaten supper before she left.
Eventually, she did manage to fall into a light doze. It was the brightness of the sun that woke her up. It was early morning and nearly dead silent in the forest. Wendy stood up and brushed off the dirt and stray leaves from her dress and stretched her sore limbs. She never imagined how lucky she was to have a bed until now. Standing still and listening hard, Wendy could only just hear the ocean. She headed toward it, feeling untold relief. She just hoped she was on the right side of the island. She'd have to walk the perimeter of the it if she couldn't see the Jolly Roger.
She nearly yelped in joy when the beach lay before her. Just beyond it loomed the infamous pirate ship. An even more pleasing sight was Mr. Smee and two other pirates playing cards over the overturned longboat. One of the pirates, an incredibly lanky man, spotted her and nudged his friend. Mr. Smee looked up and upset the cards and the boat in his haste to stand and meet her. "Where 'ave ye been?"
"I got lost," she explained.
He looked her over for signs of injury. "Ye're not hurt, are ye?"
She shook her head no. "I'm in need of a good bath, though."
He nodded and muttered something darkly under his breath. When she asked him to speak it again so she could hear, he turned away and gave orders to the other pirates to ready the boat. He was keeping something from her. She knew from earlier conversations with him that it was nearly impossible to get information he wasn't willing to part with from him so she gave up and stared out towards the ship. It didn't look like anyone was up and about except for a handful of men who stood watch.
Soon, Wendy was helped out of the long boat and onto the deck of the ship. It was lovely to be back to the strange, but familiar surroundings. She even managed to ignore the stares and mutters she attracted from the crew. They were acting strangely, though. She thought their expressions were decidedly more than annoyed as they scowled at her. As she entered the Captain's cabin, she understood why the crew was so upset. The hooked pirate was sprawled in the armchair, chest bare and a bottle of rum threatening to fall from the limp hand that hung over the arm of the chair. His long, dark hair was wild and unruly, hanging into his face as he looked up at her through half-lidded, bloodshot eyes. As he recognized her, he sat up and his eyes narrowed at her as he sneered, "I thought you'd left."