"I like to think of it as... a friendly darkness!"
"Foolish boy! There's no such thing and you know it! Stop playing games for once in your immortal life and pay attention to what's going on around you! Your never trees are dying. Your blue skies are greying. Your sparkling waters are violent. And your pixies are fading! Now, Pan," the pirate leaned down to the boys eye level, "what are you going to do about it?"
Peter's face scrunched in angry frown, "There's nothing wrong!" And the boy lunged at the captain. Deflecting the dagger swiping at his midsection, he twisted the blade out of the boys hand and shoved him off towards the mast. Peter dove to the side to avoid colliding with the beam and floated just far enough away that the captain could not reach. Hook prepared for the child's next attack, watching the boy closely as he glared at the dagger now resting in the Pirates good hand.
But the boy froze, his eyes widening and glassing over, his skin going pail. The breeze stopped. The waves stopped. The crickets stopped. All of Neverland seemed to be holding its breath.
Suddenly, Peter's face contorted in pure agony and the boy screamed, then he was falling.
Hook didn't think. He simply acted. Grabbing onto a stranded rope next to him, he leapt from the mast he stood on, flying pirate style through the air. He grunted as the falling lad impacted his chest and grabbed him tightly so as to prevent him from crashing to his death. Touching ground, the captain tumbled into a roll. He curled over the child in his arms protecting him from the hard impact of the deck.
When their fall ended, Hook held the screaming lad in his arms not knowing what to do. Peter was trembling violently; his hands gripped the side of his head, covering his ears as if to block out some terrible noise. Neverland remained silent however, as if the whole island had stopped to listen to its immortal child's cries. He shook his head, his eyes still firmly shut, "No! No! No!" He screeched. "Stop it! Don't touch them! No!" Tears streaked down his cheeks and he screamed again, tucking his head into his knees.
"Captain, Sir?" Mr. Smee approached nervously fiddling with his cap, "What's wrong with Pan?"
"Nothing's wrong with Pan, Smee." He whispered gravely, "It's the island magic talking through him. Peter has always felt whatever the island felt. The island can't cry- but Pan can. The island can't scream- but Pan can. And the island can't be in pain- but Pan can. Haven't you ever noticed before?"
"Well, yes, captain. But I always thought it was Peter's emotions that caused the weather."
"Yes, Smee, but Peter is as much a part of the island as the island is a part of him. When a storm comes, Peter will be upset. When the winds blow violently, Peter is angry. This is why Pan has never fallen from the island's sky, because the island only ever been happy. Happy thoughts. Happy flying. Sad thoughts... something dreadfully sad and painful must have happened for Peter to have fallen."
At that moment the sky began to cry gently. "Yes, Mr. Smee. I do believe Neverland is morning today."
The captain's words and the rain on his face soothed Peter. His cries turned to slow weeping and then into short hiccups. He gently removed his hands from his head and shifted his position, unconsciously leaning his back into the warmth of the captain's chest. Hook looked down at the boy and was sad to find that his brown eyes held no joy like the Peter Pan Hook had seen minutes ago; they were haunted. Peter's eyes drifted up to the captains.
"You were right, Codfish." Peter shakily whispered. "The pixie hollow, the grand tree where all of the fairies live, it destroyed it. The darkness it-" he choked. "They're all dead."