I have been away from this story for so long! I really do apologize for my obscene absence! Writer's block has been ailing me with this chapter but i thought it important it should be right. However you want none of my excuses so I hope you enjoy the chapter and please leave a review to tell me what you think! :)
Chapter 13
At last Peter and Jane arrived home and Jane breathed a sigh of relief at the welcome sight of her front door. She slipped her hand out of Peters gently and opened the door, stepping back so he could pass with the groceries.
"We're back Mother." She called, closing the door behind her and rubbing a hand across her forehead. She hoped she didn't look worried on the outside even though her thoughts were in painful turmoil. She kept telling herself not to be silly, that it couldn't have been Hook, that she'd seen him die, it wasn't possible, but it did no good, still she worried and fretted until the smallest sound or sudden movement made her jump.
She spent the next few hours in agitated silence and the crease in Peter's forehead grew deeper and deeper as he watched her, Wendy was also uneasy and looked up from her sewing often with the hope that the panicked expression had gone from her daughter's face.
It never had.
John, on the other hand, was blissfully unaware of the delicate situation and talked enough for everybody, pondering aloud on such officious matters that he prided himself on being knowledgeable of. This, however, was cut short by Johnny after about 2 hours. The little boy had been sitting in perplexed silence and eventually he lifted his eyes to John and spoke to him in a rare moment when he'd stopped to draw breath.
"Were you fun once, Uncle?" Johnny enquired seriously and John spluttered indignantly.
Peter gave a snort of laughter and even Wendy was induced to smile.
"Believe it or not your uncle was a great swordsman once and full of adventurous spirit." Peter said, waggling his eyebrows. John puffed up his chest under Johnny's now admiring gaze.
"There young man – fun indeed!" He said triumphantly.
"Did you ever fight Captain Hook?" He asked his uncle eagerly, scooting closer to him. At that dreaded name Jane was pulled from her reverie and her face drained of colour.
"Briefly." John replied, a smile spreading over his face. He chuckled, "I lost very badly and ended up tied to a rock with your Uncle Michael and an Indian girl called Tiger-Lily." A blush appeared on his cheeks as he said her name and Wendy smiled knowingly as he adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "It was mad, a crazy adventure. And now..." A new expression came over his face as his voice trailed away, it was almost confused – certainly lost. "Now, I am a banker." His eyebrows drew together and he raked a hand through his depleting hair with a smile bordering on melancholy. Wendy had stopped smiling and was looking at him instead with sympathy, she leaned over and pressed his hand.
Jane's eyes glazed with tears as she looked at him, this was not the blustering uncle she knew – he looked old and tired. She turned her tearful eyes to Peter but in her mind it was not he whom she saw, suddenly she was looking at an old man, speckled with age spots with white hair and sagging, papery skin. She gave a small squeak of horror and the noise seemed to propel her from the waking nightmare and it was Peter again, young and beautiful, looking at her in concern.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, her face stricken.
"What's wrong?" He asked under his breath but she just shook her head.
Wendy had heard their exchange and quickly got to her feet.
"A cup of tea for you, I think John." She said briskly and then picked up Johnny. "And milk for you little one, it's almost time for bed." Both males complied willingly to her requests and soon peter and Jane were alone.
Almost immediately after the door closed behind them Peter rose from his seat and moved quickly over to Jane, taking her face tenderly in his hand and looking at her searchingly.
"What is it? Tell me!" He pressed, his sea blue eyes fixed intensely on her own.
Jane bit her lip and stood up, moving out of his hold. "Nothing, I am tired. That's all." She said in a flat voice as she turned away.
Peter growled under his breath in exasperation and walked over to her determinedly. "No that is not all. I know you, remember? You can't fool me Jane so you might as well tell me." He said forcefully.
Her lips trembled slightly but other than that she gave no sign that she'd heard him and he slammed his fist against the wall with frustration. She jumped at the sudden movement and raised wide eyes to meet his, Peter felt immediately ashamed when he saw the fear in her face but it was too late, he couldn't take it back now.
"Just..." He said softly, holding out his hands to her in an almost childlike manner. "I just need to know that you're alright."
"I'm fine." She said quietly but her tone made it clear that she wanted no further discussion on the matter. "I have told you I am simply tired, it would do you credit to leave it at that."
Peter was about to protest but she looked at him with such a weary but stubborn expression that the words did not come out. She sighed,
"I am going to bed." She said softly and she was out of the room before Peter could say another word. Once she was gone he sank back onto the chair with his head in his hands, he could feel the anger building up inside him but instead of lashing out again he turned it on himself, though his teeth gnashed together and his breathing was heavy and laboured he let no sound escape his lips and no violent gesture was dealt. It was unbelievably difficult to contain and by the time the rage had receded he was panting and his hair was sticking to his head but he was himself again. He sat heavily back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, he knew that somewhere in the room above Jane was sad and he could do absolutely nothing about it. That night he didn't move from the chair, didn't even hear Wendy's soft request for him to go up to bed, he just sat and stared at the ceiling and occasionally (even though Peter Pan never cries) a tear would make it's plaintive way down his tanned cheek.
Jane had been lying when she'd said she was tired but she did go to her bedroom all the same, once there though all she could do was collapse onto the bed and (much like Peter was doing) stare at the ceiling. What did all this mean, this feeling she'd harboured ever since she'd seen Peter's eyes flash red? And all these visions and waking dreams? Waking nightmares? She thought back to how she'd seen Peter as an old man and shuddered, wondering if all of this was linked. Above all she wanted to know why she felt like somehow she knew the answer. Jane groaned and tossed a pillow at the headboard in frustration – nothing made sense, this illness was nothing to do with her, she hadn't been in Neverland when it spread, she logically knew nothing about it. She covered her face with her hands, flopping backwards onto the pillow, and yet...there was something...
A knocking noise gradually intruded on her thoughts and she at first did nothing, thinking it was Peter or her Mother, but as the noise continued she sat up reluctantly and looked angrily at the door.
"Come in." She said curtly but there was no response and still the knocking continued. Jane's brow's drew together in confusion as she slowly got to her feet and made her way to the door but the knocking did not seem to be coming from there. To be sure she opened the door and cast a nervous glance down the corridor but there was nobody there. She backed into her room and closed the door again, facing the wood with a perplexed expression – however she noticed the knocking had stopped. She stood there for a few seconds with her heart in her mouth but an eerie silence had fallen. A sudden click from behind her made her jump and she forced herself to turn, terrified of what she would find she slowly turned round to be faced with a sight that rendered even a scream an understatement. She couldn't move, couldn't make a sound as Captain James Hook walked towards her with a smirk on his unchanged face and a loaded pistol in his hands.
"Hello Jane."
