Author's Notes: After an age of hiatus, it's back! Er, sort of. Anyone still hanging in here can thank health-critic; they left such a lovely review that it finally clicked in that I never did remember to upload this chapter (again, four parts) and the next (another four parts) - both of which were/have been already written. Those updates will probably be once a week, or every two weeks. I'll try to draw it out in an effort to begin the next chapter I'd planned on doing, so I can actually finish this bloody thing. XD

And, to answer some questions health-critic had: This is based less on the novel and more on the 90's cartoon show by Fox (Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates). The Were-Forest, Were-Trees, Tintagel, Small Monday Island, Oberon and Gloriana, and a host of others appeared in the show, which deviates from the novel a LOT. Unfortunately, it's difficult (if not impossible) to find/acquire the episodes these days; although there is a small community of fans at The Pirate's Cove forum that you can visit and ask questions of, if you like. ( .com ) It's not enormously active, but it's there.

Also: I highly recommend Peter Pan in Scarlet (the sequel to JM Barrie's novel). Personally, I liked it way more than the original. ;)

Now, ON TO THE FIC!

Part Four: Night Mares and Dream Snakes

1/4

Slightly awoke to the feeling of a horde of termites crawling around in his brain. His scalp itched and his body felt weak and jittery, goosebumps spotting his flesh. His hands shook as he sat up, rubbing his face to bring the feeling back to it. Quick breaths slipping in and out of his lips as his heart thundered in his chest. The dreams – or, nightmares – danced just behind his eyes, sticking in the front of his mind as he came to awareness.

The fire was still burning, if a bit dimmer than it had been earlier when he first fell asleep. He could see Hard-To-Hit laying curled up in a small blanket nearby, his brow furrowed as he dreamed of things Slightly didn't know. Billy was asleep on his right, his face oddly clear of any emotion. For once he looked at peace, unlike how he usually was when he was awake. Slightly almost envied him at that moment.

Why can't my dreams be of nothing? He wondered sourly. Why did I have to dream of that— A heavy shudder washed through him as he remembered the nightmares he had had. Quickly, he thrust the memories aside and got to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He could see Pyewacket sitting at the mouth of the cave, and in a moment of loneliness, decided to join him.

The brownie glanced up as Slightly approached, limping. "Hey, Boss, "Pyewacket said quietly. "What are you doing up?"

"Had nightmares," Slightly replied, easing himself down next to the rock his brownie friend sat on.

"Doesn't surprise me, after today," Pyewacket murmured. "I had a few myself."

For a few long minutes, the two sat there, silent. Their minds wandered to their own troubles and woes, even their own nightmares. And though both of them wanted to talk, neither of them wanted to remember. So they said nothing of it, and for that they were both grateful and, to an extent, disappointed.

High above them, a hole appeared in the clouds to allow a beam of moonlight to shine down upon a hill in the distance. The two followed it with their eyes, trying to take some comfort from the natural light. Suddenly, Slightly stiffened and sat up.

"What's that?" he whispered.

Pyewacket's eyes followed the boy's finger to where it pointed, at the hill. He squinted, and then stared. "Heh," he chuckled softly. "Didn't think I'd see her, but it makes sense."

A dark shape had come trotting up to the top of the hill, just beyond the patch of moonlight. It danced about, kicking up its heels as it let out cries that echoed through the darkness. Magic hung upon it like a cloak, stars glittered through translucent flesh that rippled beautifully with every spin and move it made. A loud whinny came to Slightly's ears, and he stared in amazement as mist and stardust sprayed up from where its feet touched the ground.

"Who…what is that?" the boy asked in awe.

"Minuit," Pyewacket said. "The Night Mare." The brownie removed his cap for a moment to scratch his head, replacing it quickly. "She really only comes out at night, very rarely during the day. She is the bearer of bad dreams. When you have a nightmare, she's never far away." He smiled wanly. "Seeing as we both had nightmares tonight, I'm not surprised to see her."

"I've slightly never seen her before," Slightly said softly, watching as the mare traipsed about on the hill.

"She doesn't like to be seen," Pyewacket replied. "Especially by humans. I hear that she thinks if they knew she brought them the nightmares, they would blame her for it." He glanced sideways at the boy. "She doesn't make them, she just delivers 'em."

"Then who makes them?"

The brownie shrugged. "I've no idea."

"Huh." Slightly wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, watching as Minuit circled the patch of light, playing with it. "What's she doing that for?"

Again, Pyewacket shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she just wants to play?"

"Hmmm." Slightly leaned against the rock, propping his chin in the palm of one hand. He smiled a little as he watched her. "She's slightly pretty."

"Yeah," Pyewacket agreed.

They continued to sit in silence, content to just watch as the Night Mare frolicked about in the patch of moonlight, singing her joy into the darkened skies. For just a few minutes, both of them forgot the horrors they had seen not so long ago, the terrors that came to them in their dreams, and the fear of what they would be facing on the morrow. For just a few minutes they enjoyed the magical performance before them, pretending she was doing it just for them.

For just a few minutes, they were content.

And Minuit continued to play, her eyes often wandering to the two companions sitting in the mouth of the cave. She had no other way to apologize to them, and so she danced just for them. For just a few minutes.

This was all just a dream. A very bad, bad dream.

The mouth of the gate yawned before her as Wendy was pressed along by her boys - her brothers! - and a horde of nightmarish things taking up the rear. A tiny little mouse wearing a sombrero led the way, bouncing in excitement as the group marched somberly forward. Wendy sobbed into her hands, feeling alone and at a loss to what to do. She had already tried talking to the boys, but their eyes and hearts remained hidden from her, stuffed into their cores by the slugs that rode them.

She could almost feel the stone beneath her feet throbbing with evil, as the walls pulsed as though they had a heart that beat within them. Terrible images of slaughters hung from the ceiling upon tapestries that made her shudder, and she purposely avoided looking at the severed heads that lined the hall like trophies. She did, however, pause to stare in horror at the emaciated bodies of fairies sewn into a rug, like some sick sort of collage. The worst part of it was that quite a few of them were still alive.

The tip of a spear poked her in the spine, urging her onward.

Trying to retain her dignity, even as she cried, the girl lifted up her chin as she was marched on through a set of stone doors, past the guards who glared at her through dead eyes and beyond two large figures carved into stone on either side of her. Had she looked, or had she cared, Wendy would have noticed their eyes following her, gleaming gold in the darkness. Stone wings shifted minutely before settling back, eyes continuing to watch the girl as she stepped beyond the thin line between freedom and captivity.

Ahead of her, Wendy could see a dark throne sitting amongst shadows darker than she had ever seen before. A strange figure sat upon it, tapping his fingers lightly to make his own weird little drumbeat in time to Wendy's approach. Eyes that very nearly pulsated with hate narrowed as the girl was stopped just before she reached the stairs that led up to his throne. A wicked smile played across his face.

"Greetings, Miss. Wendy."

Wendy lifted her chin. Manners were still important, even in times like these. "Hello."

"How are you this night?"

"I could be much better," the girl replied darkly. She pointed to her brothers and the Lost Boys, who had gone to stand off to her left in a row, faces blank. "Would you care to explain what has been done to my boys?"

A low chuckle answered. "I have shown them the light," said the person. "I assure you, they are in no way under any duress or in any pain. They are simply…sleeping."

Wendy narrowed her eyes. "I would appreciate it if you wake them up now, sir," she said in a clipped tone. "They are my boys and I want them back."

"Hah!" She could see the figure shifting ever so slightly, leaning forward a bit as though to get a better look at her. "I am truly sorry, Miss. Wendy. But I can't do that. You see, I need them for my own purpose, and until I get what I want, they will stay with me." He smirked. "And so shall you."

Lifting her head high, the girl's eyes flashed. "And what do you want with me?" she demanded, though her heart fluttered in fear. "Or my boys? There is nothing we could possibly do for you, sir, that you obviously cannot do for yourself!" She waved a hand at the beasts that surrounded her. "Aren't these good enough for you?"

"No." The figure growled, then coughed lightly. "Their purpose is for something other than what I need you for. So, obviously, they aren't good enough."

Wendy scowled, unbecomingly of a lady. "I am sorry, but I demand you release my boys and I immediately! I want nothing to do with you, and I'm sure if they were in control of themselves, they would agree!"

A snort followed that. "How do you know?" the figure asked snidely. "How do you know they aren't kissing the ground I walk upon in their minds right now? How can you speak for them when they are unable to speak for themselves? Making choices for those who have no voice, or cannot make choices for themselves. That, my dear, is abuse of power."

Wendy gasped, offended. "How dare you!"

"I dare because I can!" the figure snapped, reaching one hand out of the shadows to swipe at Wendy angrily. The girl gasped upon seeing the gnarly limb, covering her mouth in horror and stepping back. "I dare because I have the power, and I do not care about you, or your precious boys." A smirk was in his voice now, and Wendy shuddered. "I have plans for them, and for you, Miss. Wendy. Many, many plans. Especially for you."

Wendy's eyes widened as two pairs of bloated, nasty hands grabbed her arms, holding her still as she began to struggle. Tears once again began to fall from her eyes as the figure began to cackle madly, the sound grating in her ears and bringing goosebumps to her flesh. "What do you want?" the girl cried, looking to her boys for a moment.

"I want you," was the reply. "I want you to suffer. I want your boys to suffer. I want you, and your precious boys to make Pan suffer. All of you, all of you will scream, and writhe beneath my fingers!" The hand reached out again, turning palm-up to clench into a sick fist. Terrible eyes glittered viciously and a crooked smile flashed at the girl, who began to tremble violently. "Just the thought of anything happening to you has already caused Pan much torment. I wonder what he would do if you were truly being tortured?"

"What have you done to Peter?!" Wendy shouted, suddenly full of even more terror than she originally thought possible. She could only stare in horror as the beast within the darkness burst into maniacal laughter.

"What haven't I done?" he howled. "Only the worst that one such as I can do to an infernal hell-brat like him!"

"You monster!" Wendy screamed, struggling in the grip of her captor's again. To no avail, however, as they only tightened their grips until they bruised. The girl began to sob again. "Oh, you beast! You horrible, horrible beast! What have you done!"

"You will see, soon enough," he replied darkly. "And when you do, you will be the one experiencing the agony and torment that awaits your precious Pan! And he shall come to me like a fly into the spider's lair, just for you." A cruel smile tweaked his face again, morphing it into something even uglier than what it already was. "You can only blame yourself, Miss. Wendy, for what awaits Peter Pan. You are the bait, he is the prey, and I…I am the hunter."

"Who are you?" Wendy cried, as her captors tugged on her arms, dragging her slowly away. As she was pulled, a rather frightening looking fairy glided over to the throne, casting a dim gray light on the person upon it. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she finally got a good look at him, and her scream shattered the eerie stillness of the hall.

"They call me Saxon, Miss. Wendy," the cripple hissed, waving at her mockingly as she was dragged through an archway. "But soon, all will refer to me as Master."

As the heavy doors of the archway closed, all Wendy could see was her boys, standing so quietly in line, like sheep waiting for the slaughter.

Oh, Peter!

Icky had never been slapped before.

She'd been punched, stabbed, kicked, thrown, whipped, pushed and stomped on, but never, as far as she could remember, had she been slapped. And so, as her brain attempted to register the shock she felt at having a humanoid hand strike her cheek, her first reaction was to stare blankly at Nibs's tear-streaked face. Her brain rolled the scenario over and over again as the blonde began to scream at her as loud as he could – which wasn't all that loud considering how crappy he felt – and beat at her with his fists.

"Why didn't you say anything! What were you thinking? Why? Why?! How could you! You've let me become a freak!"

At this, Icky's shock snapped in half and her hand whipped out to strike Nibs's face, catching his fists with her other hand. A low, threatening growl rose from deep in her chest as her hackles exploded like porcupine quills. Fangs flashed as she pushed the boy up against the tree they were huddled against, snarling in his face.

"You little swine," she hissed, grabbing him by the throat. "How dare you accuse me of this!" She shoved her knee between his legs and leaned in close as Nibs gasped and choked, his eyes widening. "How dare you accuse me of being a freak?!"

"I never—"

"SHUT UP!"

Nibs gasped, fear fluttering up in his chest as saliva sprayed onto his face from the werewolf's sudden outburst. But he fell into a frightened silence.

"Now you listen here, human," Icky snarled. "My kind are not freaks! So don't even think that that is what you are becoming! Werewolves are as natural as any human, any animal – we were here before you! Just because you think the lot of us are bloodthirsty animals bent on devouring the human race doesn't make it true! And don't you dare to blame this all on me!" She tightened her grip briefly. "Would you have rather me left you to die? Would you have preferred it if you were left to that spider thing? Did you want to be eaten?"

"It would have been better than this!" Nibs choked, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"NO! It wouldn't have!" Icky shoved him against the tree again, hard. Then she stepped back, ears flattened back against her skull. "Do you think I'm a freak? Am I so fucking evil?!" She did a pirouette, showing herself off to the boy. "Do I seem as terrible as those things back there?! I saved your worthless life, human! I could have left you to die, alone, being devoured alive by that disgusting eight-legged monster! Or I could have abandoned you to them!" She stabbed a finger at the corpses of the beasts that had been struck down by the Were-Trees.

"But no, I didn't! I could have been killed, I could have been eaten, I saved your life and here you are, whining like the pathetic human baby you are just because you've grown half a tail!" She snarled, eyes flashing. "Being a werewolf isn't the horror you think it is, boy! I'd rather be

human than dead, and coming from me that means a whole lot more than your stupid brain can understand!"

Growling viciously, Icky turned and stomped to the bush where Tinkerbell's pouch was still buried. Thrusting her hand in, she snatched the pouch out and thundered back to Nibs, tossing it at him. Tink screeched from inside and Nibs stared at Icky. "There's your stupid fairy! I could have let her die, too!"

"Icky—" Nibs started to say, but she interrupted.

"SHUT UP!" Icky panted, her eyes wild. "I am not a freak!"

"I—"

"I'm NOT!"

"Icky, I never said—"

"SHUT UP, HUMAN!"

To Nibs's surprise, Icky was almost in tears. "I risk my life for you, a life I treasure very much and this is the thanks I get?! To be named a freak? Oh no, wait, you never said I was a freak, did you? You said you were turning into a freak. Oh, that makes it right, then, doesn't it? Saying

you're turning into a freak implies that I am a freak, since you're changing into something a hell of a lot like me!" She shook her head viciously, baring her teeth. "Why must humans always think of something that's not like them as a monster or something unnatural? Can't you understand that there's nothing wrong with it?"

Nibs stared in utter astonishment as Icky dropped to her knees, breathing heavily. She lowered her head until her hair shielded her face from view, and it was about then that Tink managed to crawl out of the pouch to tumble down on Nibs's lap. The boy took little notice of her, however, as his attention was focused on the wolf before him.

"Icky…"

"Just…just shut up, human."

Nibs shivered, feeling blood pounding through his veins. His head hurt, from the venom, from the yelling, from everything. "I'm…sorry."

"Are you deaf?" Icky hissed, albeit weakly. "I said shut up."

"I didn't mean it to sound like that," Nibs said, almost in tears himself. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want to talk to you," Icky whispered. "So just take a hint, shut your trap."

"Icky…"

"Peter?" Nibs glanced down, his eyes widening a bit as Tink sat up, rubbing her head as she wobbled back and forth weakly. "Peter…where is…Peter…?"

"Tink," Nibs whispered, picking her up gently. "Are you alright?"

Tinkerbell moaned, falling to her knees in the cusp of the boy's palms. "I…where is Peter, I have to find him…"

"He's on the Jolly Roger," Nibs said quickly, glancing up to see Icky still sitting where she had been, her shoulders shaking and head still bowed. "I…something is wrong with him."

The little pixie moaned again, collapsing completely. Her head rested on the boy's thumb, her hands clenched into fists. "Oh, Nibs…look at you…"

The boy winced. "I-I know, Tink," he said softly. "But…it was the only way…" His eyes slid back to Icky, who was now sitting up, ears flattened. She watched him, her face carefully blank, exposing nothing. "The spider-thing got me…Icky saved me."

Tink rolled her head around to stare at Icky, her face expressing some surprise. "Werewolf," she murmured. "Never thought…"

"Tink…Peter's on the Jolly Roger. I…had to leave him with Hook. Something happened, and Hook made me come look for you." Nibs's eyes kept jumping from Icky to Tink, not sure who to focus on.

"He…oh." Tink seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I…where was I? I can't remember…"

"Side-effects," Icky said gruffly, catching both their attentions. "The spider bit you, too. You're still weak from the poison. You probably won't remember until it leaves your system and your head clears."

Tink frowned weakly. "Oh…fiddlesticks."

There was silence for a few long moments as the Were-Trees moaned to each other, shifting their branches into more comfortable positions. Though both Icky and Nibs felt like they ought to fear the trees, neither of them did. It seemed that maybe the trees had more important enemies to deal with, as they did.

A few more minutes passed, then Icky sighed. "Ah…I guess…I should go, then." She didn't sound very happy about it, though.

Nibs's head shot up and he stared at her. "What?"

"I did my job," she muttered, mostly to herself. Then she said a little more loudly, "Look, Nibs. I…don't really see any reason for me to hang around any longer. You're alive, the Were-Trees seem to be on some weird protective streak, and you have your little fairy pal there to yap at. So I might as well just go."

"Hey…hey!" Nibs said as Icky started getting to her feet. "Wait…"

"What for?" the werewolf asked, sounding depressed. "You don't need me anymore. I'm about as useless as a log. And I have better things to do." Besides, she thought. My job is done. Abura only asked me to get you here, he never told me to stay.

"…but…I do…"

The words made her pause mid-step as she began to walk away. Glancing back, her eyebrow rose as she got a good look at the boy. He was mid-transformation, still weak, and there were tears in his eyes. "What?" Icky asked, trying to keep any and all emotion out of her tone.

"I do need you," Nibs said. "You're…you're my friend."

"Friends don't call friends a freak," Icky said darkly.

"I'm sorry," Nibs whispered, tears brimming in his eyes again. "I didn't mean to. You're not a freak, and you're not useless. I need you to stay…I can't…" These words were hard for him, as he really didn't like asking anyone for help or admitting his weaknesses. But, as much as he hated it, he wasn't so proud as to ignore it when he really did need help. "I can't make it by myself. Tink…she's still hurt. Those things are still out there. And…"

Icky's ears remained flattened, but her body language had relaxed, if only a little bit. "And?"

"I don't want to be alone."

Something about the way he said it caused something in the back of Icky's mind to race back to a time and place where she had been alone and afraid. With sudden vividness, she recalled the night her village had been destroyed, before she clamped down on those memories and shook her head, drowning out the screams of her kin with the pounding of her own heart.

Almost mechanically, she said, "Being alone is part of the job description for my kind."

"It's not for mine," Nibs almost whispered.

A sigh escaped the werewolf's lips, and she was quiet for what seemed to Nibs to be an eternity. "Alright," she said finally, in a voice almost too soft to be heard. "I'll stay."

Nibs smiled, leaning back against the tree. Tink leaned on his belly, closing her eyes and listening to the boy's heartbeat as she attempted to gain more of her strength back. "Thank you," Nibs said, resting his hands on the ground.

"Yeah."

You never told me what to do after I got them here, Abura. Was this what you had in mind, or something else?

To be continued.... dun dun dun....