Despite a few dips in the road, Jack had to admit that he enjoyed Neverland. He enjoyed being on the island with Peter, in a place where he could enjoy a perpetual summer without ending that summer or getting sick from the heat. It was fun, and it was a nice break from the harsh reality that eventually Jamie and his friends would grow up, as would all his believers, and Jack would be alone again.

But he knew that he couldn't stay in Neverland forever, and eventually he'd have to leave. And eventually, he'd have to let Peter know. Jack grimaced from where he lay atop the furry mattress; he could already tell that it wouldn't be pleasant.

Closing his eyes, Jack tried to imagine it. A boyish face, a perky nose, chocolate brown eyes wide with delight and mischief. Freckles sprinkled lightly upon sun-kissed skin that had gained its rich hue from lifetimes out in the rays of light. Long, slender fingers that danced over the reed pipes and soft red lips puckered ever so slightly, blowing into them to make music. And he imagined those lips drawn and upset, eyes glaring at him, filled with tears but unwilling to cry.

Jack frowned, shifting where he lay. He tried to forget the image, to wipe it from his mind, but now that he had conjured it up, it wouldn't go away. It wouldn't allow him to sleep, poking guilty holes in his heart that let out all the elation and exhilaration the day had filled it with.

Eventually, he hauled himself up, grabbing his staff and flying silently out one of the many entrances of the Tree, so as not to wake Peter up. The blond shifted, grumbling unintelligibly, but otherwise made no indication that he'd heard Jack leaving.

It was dark outside, and without all the electricity and lights from the large congregations of humanity clustered together, the stars shone brilliantly in the night sky. It was a marvel that Jack only saw at North's place; even then, they didn't shine quite so brilliantly as they did in Neverland, some of them winking and twinkling, as if trying to speak to him.

Jack smiled at them before turning his attention to the woods, flying lazily between the trees. At night, the woods were much darker, the shadows almost as thick and inky as if they'd belonged to Pitch. There was something threatening about it, as if eyes were watching his every move, and Jack pulled his arms a little closer around his body.

The shadows seemed to close in around him, reminding the immortal teen uncomfortably of Pitch. Beginning to feel a little claustrophobic, Jack contemplated heading back when a weak, almost feeble voice called out to him.

He stopped, guard up, and moved slowly to the source of the calling, staff raised in a threatening manner.

What he found, however, was an older man, with long, somewhat scraggly black hair matted with dirt and grease, and gaunt, pale skin streaked with blood and dirt. His dark eyes looked at Jack imploringly, distracting the winter spirit from a carmine coat he was sure he'd seen once before.

"Ah, young lad, thank you so much for stopping." The dark-haired man grinned toothily, hands waving almost impatiently for Jack to come closer. "I've been aching for some company; it's been so lonely around here."

"Company? You can't have been that alone." Jack replied, neither closing the distance between the two of them nor removing his staff from its position brandished before him. "What about the Indians? Or Peter?"

The as of yet unnamed man shook his head, clicking his tongue in an almost disapproving manner. "Me? Speak to Pan? That would be the death of me, I'm afraid." He shrugged, grinning in Jack's direction once more. "And those sa—Indians like me about as much."

Pale hands tightened their grip on the wood, the boy's hackles raised. "Why? Who are you?"

The man's grin widened even more, and he gave a sweeping bow that somehow felt incomplete without a wide-brimmed, feathered hat to pull from his head. "The name is James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." His black eyes glittered with some sort of feral emotion Jack couldn't quite place. However, it reminded him of Pitch, when the man had once tried to convince him to become allies. He didn't like it, yet unlike the Boogieman, Hook lacked the danger that had oozed out of the other.

Jack let his staff lower just a slight, but he didn't completely drop it. He was reminded of Wendy's stories, of the nefarious Captain Hook and his crew. Blue eyes strayed for a moment on the long silver hook, moonlight bouncing off the shiny metal. "How do you know Peter?"

"The boy's my nemesis, you see," Hook replied jovially, "We fought each other for lifetimes. Alas, with the coming of his Wendy and her brothers, our friendly rivalry came to an end."

Jack blanched, blood rushing from his face. "His Wendy?" He couldn't help but ask, recalling the woman on the other side of the window, and the way she spoke so easily with Peter despite the difference in their ages. Were they really…?

Hook alighted upon this little tidbit of information like a predator upon its long-awaited prey, though he restrained himself enough to not seem suspicious. "What's wrong, young lad? You're not… jealous, perhaps, are you?"

His words snapped Jack back to the present, and the boy adamantly shook his head, changing the subject back to the taller man. "What happened? Why did this 'rivalry' of yours end?"

Hook overplayed the sadness perhaps a bit much, but he was confident that it hadn't been brought to Jack's attention. "She finally sent him over the edge. That day, you see, it was not me who died, but the dear Peter Pan. He lost the boyish innocence that I once envied so, and became naught more than a monster. Even his Lost Boys have abandoned him." The pirate captain gave him a curious, inquiring look. "I'm sure even you have noticed it? How different the boy seems at times?"

As much as Jack tried not to admit it, his mind automatically flashed back to all those conversations that his friend would skirt around, the sidelong looks and that woman's brown eyes filled with that look Jack never wanted to see anymore. And as he thought about it, he realized Peter too, had the same look in his eyes, no matter how well he masked it.

The boy that would never grow up had experienced true love, and the thought alone was enough to bring Jack's staff thumping against the ground. Gray clouds had swirled in, flurries of snow performing pirouettes around him.

"…How are you alive? Why are you alive?" Jack turned to the man, trying and failing to hide the desperation in his expression, to take his mind off something that shouldn't affect him, but it did.

Hook smiled. Not a polite or toothy grin as he'd had before, but something feral, dangerous. "I cut open the creature's belly myself. Wherever Pan lives on, so shall I follow." The man's eyes flashed red as he disappeared into the undergrowth, but Jack hadn't the energy to chase after him.

Even Hook. Even one of the most feared pirates in the entire world had someone—an eternal rival in Peter, an eternal companionship in his crew. The Guardians had their helpers and their believers; Jamie and all his believers had each other and their families and eventually a spouse and children; Peter had a friend in Tinkerbell and an enemy in Hook, and a lover in Wendy.

But Jack? Jack had no one.

At that moment, he felt truly, utterly alone.


So, to those who read my other stuff, I'm terribly sorry for the hiatus that kinda started after New Years. I've had a lot of things going on, but it's starting to calm down now. :P So hopefully I'll finally be able to start writing again.
Also, halfway through with this story! :) I had this chapter written out awhile ago, as I was planning to write it all out and post it at once, but realizing how long it's been, I figured I'd better post it now. ^^ Hope you like!
(About my Fairy Tail/Harry Potter crossover, don't expect any updates soon for that one until this one is finished, at the least.)