Peter's journey to the universes edge had taken longer than he expected, as had his stay there. He had waited until every last angel had passed through and watched the expression on their faces as they finally realised what truly came after death. He would never forget those expressions, the sheer emotion which impressed itself on the golden faces.
It seemed slower on the way back, as though he was moving through real distance rather than being transported from one place to another by his imagination. He had closed on Neverland with as much speed as he could muster, desperate to see his Wendy once more and hold her in his arms. He was wracked with fear for her fate, just how had she survived on Neverland? She had been raised in the city and had never had to fend for herself before; how would she clothe and feed herself? He felt a slight tinge of guilt slide down his gullet at the thought of her all alone, without any comfort or hope.
His anxiety sped him on until time itself began to slow around him, the fairy dust leaving a golden trail behind him like a comet. He lit up the nights sky with his speed, tearing through the universal vacuum. Finally it lay before him; Neverland.
It was still dull and grey, dark clouds swathing the land from view. He attempted to slow his approach, fearful that he would slide straight through the land into the fog which law below and onwards towards the real world. Despite this desperate attempt he still tore into the atmosphere and the cloud like lightning, leaving a trail of thunder claps behind him as he circled and slowed.
It was all still here. The mountain still rose up between the clouds and the sea still lapped against its five-pointed shores. He circled slowly, lower and lower, taking in every detail about the island as he approached, the wigwams on their horn, the witches huts in the forests and the drabness that seemed to now infest the island. There was only one light showing, a single solitary wigwam lit by a flickering fire inside.
He landed outside of it and glided through its fur curtain. Wendy was sitting there, her back to him. He stopped for a moment and took the scene, determined to commit every detail to his memory. The folds of her nightgown as it lay loosely on her back. The smell of roasting fish on the fire and the way her hair dripped down her back, longer and more untamed than he had ever seen it before.
He leant himself against the wigwams walls and smiled, preparing a suitable introduction in his head. "You know," He said, slowly, "You should never light a fire in a wigwam. A stray spark might burn the place down."
He was unprepared for what came next; a spontaneous outpouring of joy from Wendy as she shrieked and threw herself at him like a wild woman, gathering him up in her arms and planting a kiss on his paper thin lips. He responded in kind, letting her take control as she attempted to make sure that it really was Peter and not some cruel illusion.
It was later, much later, when they emerged from the wigwam into the pallid glow of the sunrise. They walked a little way from the Indians campsite to a small ridge which overlooked the lagoons purple hue. They sat there for a moment, holding hands like a pair of teenage lovers on their first date before Wendy withdrew hers and turned to look at him.
"Peter." She said, cupping his face with her hand, "it really is you." He nodded at this and smiled, brushing her hand away with his own. "And you're solid."
"Yes," He said, the affected etonian accent rising in his voice. "I've chosen to be so at this point. I made a great number of choices, and that was just one of them." The all-encompassing glow had gone from his skin now, though the hundreds of pitted scars remained. He sat there, his military uniform as pristine as it had ever been and smiled at her once more, revealing rows of white teeth.
They kissed once more and then sat to simply enjoy one another's presence. They discussed the small things, the way the fish leapt in the water and how the suns glare turned the lagoons vapours into a purple haze. They watched the children playing amid the water, marvelling at how innocent and carefree they were, "You did a good job." Peter commented and was rewarded by another kiss.
Finally, despite her desperate attempts to avoid it Wendy finally voiced the one topic she feared to ask. "Peter, what happened?"
He turned to face her then, a serious veil descending over his eyes and she feared that she had offended him, that he would fly off an abandon her for vouching such a question. Instead he broke into a smile, "I was wonder when you where going ask that." He said, before the seriousness returned once more.
"I..." she could tell he was picking his words with great care, "When we flew to the edge of the universe I..." He stopped again and laughed, his cheer sparkling through the morning mist "I met a great number of people and asked a great number of questions." He said, "And I got a lot of answers. Some of the answers seemed to make sense to me and others seemed ridiculous so I pursued those which I thought had some potential. Finally I met a very old man, so old, indeed, that he almost seemed to be coming round the other way."
Wendy laughed at this, "And what did you ask this very old man?"
"A great deal of things, and most of them he didn't answer. We just sat and chatted at the edge of the universe, while the angels past through towards the future. I asked him what I should do and he refused to tell me, though he wouldn't let me pass through with the others. I kept trying and he kept saying that it wasn't my time, that I hadn't yet saved Neverland. It was the only straight answer I got.
I asked him what he meant and then he told me. He told me the real purpose of Neverland and how it must always remain alive and vivid. He told me that Neverland always needs a Pan." He turned towards Wendy and smiled smoothly, eliciting a gasp from the girl.
"You don't mean that you have to be Pan again?" She asked, envisioning Peter and her remaining on the island forever, living out their dreams and their hopes and adventures.
He shook his head at this naivety and smiled, "No." He said, "I thought he meant that at first as well but he didn't. I'm too old now, five years ago maybe," he threw a dismissive hand, "but not now. I don't have the imagination any more, Neverland is a place for children and I am no longer a child."
She looked at him anxiously, "then you'll return to London?" She asked, "you'll come and live with me in London?"
Again he shook his great head and remove the peaked cap from his golden curls. "No." He said, "I cannot do that either. I'm dead, Wendy, and dead people don't walk the streets of London. Besides, imagine the scandal if you moved in with your cousin! No, I cannot do that."
"Then what can you do?"
"For every love, Wendy, there must be a hate. For every act of goodness there must be one of cruelty. It's the way the world works. For every Pan, dear Wendy Darling, there must be a Hook."
Wendy shook her head in horror. "No, Peter, you can't do that. You are not Hook Peter, your too kind, too dear and..." she trailed off at the sheer incompatibility of his statement, unable to comprehend how this wonderful man could become something that had always been a force of evil in her mind.
"Wendy, I must, or else I will have to fade out of existence and never see you again. Hook was not always a bad man, Wendy. He was, perhaps, a man of his time but he was always honourable and good in his dealings with us. Even when trying to kill me he would never show poor form, and to his pirates he was very kind. You see, Wendy Darling, to a child all adults aside from his mother and father are the enemy.
You see, my dear Wendy Darling," He clutched her hand here, "to a child all adults aside from his mother are the enemy. They are the ones that educate him, that force him to move from being the bizarre little savage that he always enjoyed being into a civilised man. They are the forces of authority, the ones who aren't fun and who won't join in a child's games. For Neverland to truly recover and to regain its king it needs a devil."
She looked at him with horror again, her elongated fingernails digging into his skin. "No Peter." She said, "you cannot do this. You can't leave me to become...this. There must be another way."
He shook his head once more and placed his other hand on her thigh to calm her, "No, Wendy, there is no other way. I must become this or leave. I've already made my decision, and its better that I, someone who truly understands how this works, be Hook than anyone else. But why should I leave you, Wendy Darling?" At this point he looked deep into her blue eyes with his golden orbs, "Join me. You can be my first mate, we can live together on the Jolly Peter and fight with Pan to our hearts consent. What do you say?"
She considered for a moment, and glanced at his handsome, pitted features once more. An eternity sent with this man, an eternity spent with this strange, impossible man who would become the avatar of the evil which had kept her up for hours when she was a child. She looked into his deep, uncorrupted golden orbs and watched the spark dance there. Would he every change? Would she wake up on day and find that spark gone, replaced by madness and cruelty. She could remember the last time she'd seen Hook, his last visages of honour and form wiped away by madness and anarchy. Could she live with that?
He grinned once more, already knowing what her decision would be. "What do you say?" He asked once more in his etonian drawl and watched her smile widen.
"Aye Aye sir."
But before then there was much to do, they had to wait for a new Pan and prepare some Lost Boys. The Indians would return and the then, only then, would the Jolly Peter set sail. Until then there was much time to be spent together on a wonderious isle that was just beginning wake up again. Wendy could hear the birds beginning to chirp and basked in the golden sunlight of the frsh sun. Those hesitant dreams that had come to her deep into the night would be a reality.
For Pan was dead.
And Hook had risen.
And all was good the world.
Fin.
