Hey, reader :D Next chapter is up! Woo! And for the people who guessed who the (not-so mysterious) mystery person was, I'm sorry to say that is wasn't Woody or Caption James Cook discovering new land ;D Sorry to disappoint. Also, thanks again for reading and/or reviewing! You guys make my day! Xx

Chapter Six

Peter's POV

My eyelids were so heavy it took a few attempts to open them. I winced as bright light shone into them, closing them quickly. Why was it sunny in my underground bedroom?

I felt stiff and sore all over. My bed was hard underneath me and the rough surface pushed into my back.

What the hell? Why was my bed hard? Please don't tell me that the twins had decided to fill my mattress with rocks and sticks again. Just wait till I get my hands on them. I'll kill them this time. That is, after they clean up the mess they undoubtedly made.

As I started to wake up, I realised with start that I wasn't in my bed at the hideout. In fact, I didn't know where I was at all. I was lying on the uneven forest floor at the base of a large tree. Startled, I pushed myself into a sitting position. I cried out in pain as the skin at the base of my neck pinched tightly. Clutching my throat, my eyes widened in shock as I felt something flake off onto my fingers. Pulling my hand away, I saw that they were dotted with flecks of green.

Why was I malting green skin?!

Memories of last night started to fill my mind, blurry and hazy. I couldn't remember anything after…after Tiger Lily had tried to kill me. But how did I manage to get away from the camp, and why aren't I dead?

I was starting to freak out when I saw Wendy passed out on the ground a few feet away to my right. She was sprawled out on her stomach, her head turned to the side, facing me. Scratches covered her arms and legs. She looked as though she had tried to walk through a field of cacti.

Her unmoving state reminded me of when we had crashed into the main room of the hideout and she had passed out. It had taken her almost two full days to wake up. Panic seized me and I crawled over towards her quickly, ignoring the pain in my neck. Kneeling beside her head, I grabbed her shoulders, shaking them.

"Wendy?" Her eyes flickered behind their lids, but she didn't wake. "Wendy!" I repeated, my voice starting to sound frantic. I shook her shoulders harder, desperate for her to open her eyes. She groaned slightly and mumbled under her breath. I could have sighed in relief. "Come on, wake up," I said. My voice was softer this time-less panicked-and I poked her cheek.

She swatted my hand away lazily, groaning something that sounded a lot like "Go away." Cracking a small, relieved smile, I poked her face again. Finally, she blinked a few times and her eyes settled open. As they focused on me, they widened and Wendy's mouth dropped open a fraction.

"Peter!" she squealed, launching herself at me. I tumbled over, landing on my back with Wendy sprawled on my chest, her arms around my neck. I hissed through my teeth as the skin around my neck flared with pain. Wendy, seeing my discomfort, pushed off of my quickly. "God, I'm so sorry, Peter," she apologised, looking at me with a worried expression. I pushed myself into a sitting position. "Are you alright?" Wendy eyed my neck and I found myself subconsciously touching it. More green stuff fell off.

"I'm fine," I told her and she looked relieved for a second before her eyes filled with guilt. Even with leaves in her hair and dirt on her face, she was still one of the prettiest girls that I had ever seen.

"I'm so sorry, Peter," Wendy said again. "I should of done something-said something." I knew instantly that she was referring to last night with the Indians. Biting down on her lip, she looked away, focussing on a small pebble that was near her foot. "I just stood there like an idiot. I didn't even try to talk Tiger Lily down." Wendy shook her head and I watched as a tear slipped down her cheek. "You could have died!"

Frowning, I grabbed her hand. Her eyes flickered up to my face briefly. "Wendy, it's not your fault. I handled the situation pretty badly. I was stupid for letting you come in the first place. I'm just glad that you're alright." One corner of her mouth turned upwards in a sad smile as I looked around us, taking in the trees. "How did you get us out of their alive, anyway?"

Wendy pulled her hand back and scratched her cheek. "A lot of quick thinking," she said.

I raised my eyebrow at her vague answer. "Like what?" I prompted.

"A lot of 'we come in peace' and 'I'm not Peter's new fiancé.'" Wendy gave me a smile but it was strange and forced. Her lips were pinched. "Besides, it doesn't matter. We're fine now."

Something was up. Wendy obviously didn't want to talk about it, which was weird. I nodded, letting the topic drop…for the moment. Scratching at my neck again, I asked, "What is this crap on my neck?"

Wendy's face relaxed a little at my change of subject. "It is some sort of magic flower paste."

"Really?" I said, studying one of the flakes that was on my finger. "It's weird."

Wendy scoffed. "It's amazing. It knitted your skin back together-practically saved your life."

"Anyway, can you help me get it off? It's itching like crazy," I said, rubbing at it again.

Wendy laughed, shaking her head at me. "You're unbelievable, you now that, right?" She stood, offering me a hand. "Come on, I think the stream isn't too far away."

Ten minutes later, I was standing on the water's edge, feeling slightly nervous while Wendy regarded my neck with unwavering eyes. I rubbed the tender skin that she had spent the last five minutes scrubbing at. "How bad is it?" I asked. I wasn't particularly sure if I wanted an answer.

Wendy pursed her lips, seeming to choose her next words carefully. "Well…I've always heard that girls love scars." I rolled my eyes at her. "It's not that bad," she continued. It was obvious that she was lying, or at least sugar-coating it. "I'm serious," Wendy said, seeing my expression. She stepped forward and lightly traced the length of the scar with her index finger, barely brushing my skin. My bloody heart started beating fast in my chest. "It's a straight, pinkish line all the way across."

"Great," I said dryly. "Another one to add to the collection."

"But, hey," she said with a small smile. "It could be worse."

"I know." I could have been a lot worse. "Let's head back. I bet the boys are wondering where we are."

-X-X-X-

Wendy's POV

Before we even broke through into the clearing, I knew something was wrong. No birds were chirping; no small animals were scurrying around in the trees overhead. The only noise was the sound of our footsteps and the rustling of leaves from overhead as the wind blew through them. Other than that, it was dead quiet. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. Peter cast me an uneasy look as he quickened his stride.

Moments later, the trees began to thin and we stepped into the clearing and the hideout came into view. I stumbled over my feet, nearly tripping, as I took in the sight before me.

The ground had been ripped open. A ginormous hole sat where the large tree used to stand. Pieces of the Tule tree lay scattered around the grass, along with large clumps of earth. The boys were nowhere in sight.

Peter broke into a sprint. With my heart in my throat, I chased after him.

Peter skidded to a halt at the edge on the crater. He paused for only a second before he jumped down through the open ceiling, stumbling slightly as he landed with thud. Stopping at the edge of the hole, I clutched my chest. It felt like all of the air had been suck out of my lungs with one swift pull. I couldn't breath. My heart was beating like I had just run a marathon, not less than fifty meters. Bracing my hands on my knees, I struggled to catch my breath. It took a while but finally my heart rate started to return to normal and I was able to get some air into my lungs. Sweat formed on my brow.

Righting myself, I couldn't stop myself from gasping as I looked down at the wreckage below. Everything was laying in tatters and covered in dust. Pieces of furniture had been either upended or thrown around the room. It looks as through a bomb had exploded in the center of the room. I gulped. It had to have been an explosion. Nothing else could have caused this kind of damage.

"Boys!" Peter yelled, his voice filled with panic. "Nibs! Curly!"

There was no reply.

Fear caused my stomach to tighten and my heart beat rapidly in my chest. I prayed that they were alright. Sitting down so my legs were dangling into the hole, I pushed myself over the edge. It was only a fraction of a second before I hit the floor. I lost my balance, nearly face-planting into the ground. Luckily, my hands shot out and stopped my fall. Tree branches and small rocks scratched at my palms as I stood.

"Boys!" Peter yelled again. He pushed his way through the room, looking around frantically.

Dodging around the wreckage, I crossed the room and burst into Peter's bedroom. The wardrobe had fallen onto its side, spilling clothes onto the floor. The chair beside the bed had been knocked over also. "Twins! Slightly!" I called, already knowing that they weren't in here. I quickly checked the other few bedroom, but came to the same conclusion: the boys weren't here.

The knowledge both scared and relieved me. Maybe the boys hadn't been here when the explosion occurred. Maybe they had gotten out safely. These thoughts swirled around my mind as I ran back to the main room. "Peter, they're gone-"

I stopped in my tracks when I saw him. Peter was standing with his back to me, his head hung and shoulders tense. His hands pressed into the wall with enough forces to cause veins to become visible along his arms. My eyes zeroed in on a dagger that was lodged in the wall just above his head. Its hilt was wrapped in what appeared to be red leather. Peter didn't look up as I approached, coming to a stop beside him. Up close, I saw that a long, blonde ringlet was lying across the blade, strategically placed. The ends of the stands were red with blood, clumping them together. My stomach dropped to my feet.

"He's got them," he said, his voice no louder than a whisper. Still, Peter didn't look at me, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"Who?" My voice trembled.

"Hook."

I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. That monster had them. A shiver ran up my spine as I pictured him pulling the boys out of the rumbled after he blew up the hideout.

Reaching up, both of Peter's hands curled around the hilt of the dagger. With one hard thrust, the blade was yanked free, the curl falling to the ground at his feet. He studied the weapon in his hands. "This is mine," Peter said, his voice shaking from either anger or fear. It was most likely both. As he turned to look at me for the first time since I entered the room, bumps rose on my skin. His face was a mask of barely controlled fury. "It was the dagger I used to cut his hand off. Looks like he is finally giving it back." Peter stepped away from the wall, turning his back on me as he strode to the center of the room with sharp, determined steps. He stood directly underneath the hole in the ceiling.

"Peter, where are you going?" I asked, panicked. Ignoring me, he rose into the air, his feet hovering about two feet off of the floor. Running forward quickly, I grabbed the hand that wasn't clutching the dagger. "What are you doing?"

Jerking his hand away, he said shortly, "What does it look like? I'm going after the boys."

"We can't just rush into this, Peter. Come down and let's talk about this for a moment," I pleased. Peter didn't look like himself at all, and if I was to be honest, his demeanour was starting to scare me. He had just had his throat slit and had almost died, and now he looked like he was ready to slay down an army. He wasn't thinking clearly. We both weren't.

"Talk about this?" he yelled. "He's got them, Wendy. He's got them!"

I tried not to flinch at his tone. "I know," I said as calmly as I could, but on the inside I was fighting tears. "We'll get them back. But let's just think for a moment."

"We'll get them back?" he said, repeating my words. "I'm going after them now, Wendy, and you're not coming. No way in hell."

"Peter, listen-"

"No," he snapped, dropping to the ground. He stepped towards me until only a few inches separated our faces. "They're the only family I've got. I'm not leaving then to rot while we talk it over." Peter's voice was beginning to show his desperation and fear as it wavered slightly. He was just as shaken up on the inside as I was.

"I'm not saying that," I argued. "But you just can't go to them. That's what they want. They are waiting for you to turn up."

He shook his head at me. "I don't care. You saw the blood. What if they're hurt? What if-" Peter stopped suddenly, looking away as he swallowed hard. After a moment, he finally said, "I'm not leaving them there waiting."

Bring his hand up to touch my cheek briefly before he stepped back, Peter said, "Stay here. I'll be back before tomorrow morning."

I grabbed the front of his shirt before he could try to take off on me again. "Peter, I'm coming." He wasn't leaving me here while he went off to face Hook. There was no way in Hell. It was too dangerous for him

"Not this time. Not after what happened last night," he said. Placing his hand over mine, he tried to un-knot my fingers from his shirt but I held steady. "Let go."

"No," I said stubbornly, causing Peter's jaw to click shut. His face turned frustrated.

"For God's sake, Wendy! Do you want to get yourself killed? You promised John that you would stay safe," he said heatedly. "What do you think that it would be like if I had to tell him that you're dead? To have to tell your whole family?"

My family. My chest tightened at the thought of them. I could only imagine what my parents had thought when they saw my empty bed. The image of John looking up at us through the window, his face tear stricken, flashed through my mind. I would be dammed if that was the last memory I would have of him.

"But what about you?" I argued. "What if you get killed?"

"I'll be fine. I always am."

I cut him a harsh look. "So that's why you were lying on the ground, bleeding to death last night? That's why you now have a scar that runs the width of your neck? Because you're always fine?"

"I'm still here, aren't I? And, besides, I can't try to rescue the boys if I am constantly worried about you getting skewered," Peter reasoned.

Peter was right. I didn't want him to face the pirates-at least, not alone-but at the same time, the boys' lives could be at risk. We needed to save them, and if that meant me sitting on the side lines then so be it. All I could think about was little Curly and the bloodstained lock of hair.

"Okay." Peter's eyes widened in shock but he recovered quickly, giving me a small nod. "But, if you aren't back by tomorrow morning, I'm coming after you, whether you like it or not," I warned, completely serious.

A small smile played around the corners of his lips at my tone. "Yes, ma'am."

Taking a step back, I released his shirt. "Please don't do anything stupid," I begged.

Catching me completely off-guard, Peter's hand cupped my cheek as he lent forwards and pressed his lips to my forehead. I was so surprised that I couldn't do anything besides stand there in stunned stillness. "Never."

Before I could react, he was gone.

Sorry that this chapter didn't have any action in it, but sword fighting is definitely on the 'coming soon' list :D Please leave a review and let me know what you think.