Chapter Sixteen

Wendy's POV

Throughout the last year, through the endless stream of doctors' appointments and devastating truths that I had come to accept as my reality, I had never felt like this.

Not once.

Cripplingly slow, the feeling settled over me, silencing my voice and stealing all movement out of my flailing limbs. My legs dropped like dead weight as every last gulp of air left my lungs in a single burst, but my mouth stayed open in a silent scream.

All strength deserted my body and I slumped against the pirate, whose thick, chorded arms were wrapped tightly around my torso, restraining me. Sensing that all fight was dissipating from me, his hold loosened and I dropped to the deck like a limp rag-doll. Splinters dug into my skin as my bony knees collided with timber and my arms flailed uselessly, trying to break my fall as I slumped forward.

On my hands and knees, my dirty hair fell over my shoulders and hung loosely around my face as I stared unseeingly at the deck that spread out underneath my fingertips.

All was silent for one heartbeat.

Two.

Then, chaos erupted mercilessly from the silence.

Nibs screamed first. The sound tore its way out of his throat with mangled, twisted claws, leaping into the salty air. It was raw and violent and completely heartbreaking. It was the sound a boy makes when his very soul is being ripped from his body. The sound a boy makes when he's lost a brother.

Blinky was next to join in, followed by Marmaduke, then Slightly, Tootles, and finally, little Curly. If pure desolation could be heard instead of felt, this is what it would sound like.

Fat tears leaked from my eyes and trailed down my cheeks, before falling onto the floorboards. For not necessarily the first time, I wished was deaf. Anything to stop the pained, helpless cries of the Lost Boys. Anything to not have to hear the last words that Peter would ever say before willingly tumbling to his death.

I'm sorry, Wendy. Look after them.

I tried to scream, howl, sob, anything. Nothing crossed the threshold of my gaping mouth but the quiet, strangled sound of despair. My lips refused to move. It felt like someone had plunged an icy hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, lungs and stomach, leaving my insides bare.

Shoulders trembling, legs shaking, body aching, I could do nothing but remain muted as the anguish rolled over me.

He's gone. He's gone.

I'm sorry, Wendy. I'm sorry.

My arms buckled and I collapsed forward, my head resting against the uneven wood. Tears gushed forward as my jaw shook but still didn't close, my body shuddering with noiseless cries.

He's gone. Peter's gone.

It's over.

The deck vibrated as a pair of heavy, booted feet stepped towards me. A second later, a tattooed arm reached under my stomach, pulling me to my feet. I didn't fight the pirate—I didn't have the strength.

"You want them thrown back below deck, captain?" he asked in a gruff voice.

Below deck. In the cell. Trapped, once again.

Somewhere behind me, the boys' were still screaming.

I flopped back against the pirate's bare chest, my head dropping forward, too defeated to stand on my own. Hook had never meant the words he had said to Peter. He had never intended on letting us go in exchange for his life. It was a lie—one I had foolishly believed.

And Peter had payed the ultimate price. He had jumped, believing that he was saving our lives. But from what? We were still as good as dead. Only now, Peter was lying on the bottom of the ocean, drifting, lifeless.

Gone.

My stomach rolled violently and I choked as bile scorched my throat and spilled out of my mouth, onto my clothes and over the pirates arm. He swore, shoving me away until I ended up in the same crouched position on my hands and knees, only now throwing up the small amount of food that was in my stomach.

"No." The word was soft and it didn't come from me.

Using what little strength I had left, I lifted my head and locked eyes with Hook. He towered over me, his green eyes boring into my own. I expected his face to be full of cruel pleasure and sick satisfaction, but it wasn't. Instead, it was blank, holding no signs of gloating. Something flickered across his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as it had emerged. Pain? Guilt?

No.

Impossible.

He didn't break eye contact as he spoke to his man. "No. He had my word. Take them ashore."

Peter's POV

I never expected that dying would be so painful.

My throat screamed out in agony, like it had been rubbed raw by sandpaper. The pressure in my head was so excruciating it felt as though my brain was trying to break through my skull. Unlike what I had been told, I wasn't being carried into the air, floating up towards heaven or whatever other higher place my soul was supposed to ascend.

Instead, I was lying on my back, my shoulder blades pressing into something solid and rough. Unable to see anything but blackness, I had no clue where I was.

Maybe I was in hell. It sure would explain the pain.

I had never exactly been a good boy, so I probably shouldn't have expected to get a first class ticket to the Pearly Gates. I ran away from home, swore like I didn't have a mother around to reprimand me for it—which I didn't—and had a knack for getting the people I cared for hurt.

The Lost Boys.

Tink.

Wendy.

Just thinking about them made my chest ache.

I tried to roll onto my side, but my body wouldn't cooperate. It remained lifeless, uncooperative.

If I were able to move my mouth, I would have cursed. I was dead, blind, in pain, and my body was lying as still as a corpse…which, I guess, it kind of was.

Great, just fucking great...

Maybe this was payback for every selfish thing I had ever done throughout my lifetime. It wouldn't surprise me.

I could practically picture Hook looking over the edge of his ship, smiling as he watched the heavy metal drag me down deeper into the water, choking, fighting, drowning.

For some reason, I imagined Tiger Lily standing beside him, her head tipped back as she laughed, black hair and feathers flicking out around her. Once she hears word of my death, I'm sure it will make her day—maybe even her year.

A fleeting image of Tiger Lily choking on a triumphant smile flashed across his mind, sending a brief pulse of warm, guilty pleasure through my limbs.

The momentary giddiness was washed away when blistering pain suddenly shot through my entire body, lighting fire to my entire being. If I were able to, I knew I would have screamed. I rolled onto my side, not by my own accord, but someone else's. I tried to turn my head to see who was grabbing me, but my neck refused to obey. My vision remained black.

Invisible fingers latched onto my jaw, forcing my mouth open, as something struck against my back repeatedly, sending shockwaves shooting down my spine. My shoulders shook, my body out of my own control.

Something shifted inside of my chest, and acid raced back up my throat. I coughed and gagged and sputtered as salty water came bursting out of my mouth. Hands, that weren't my own, clutched onto my face. Cracks appeared in my dark eyes, flashes of white light breaking through. It burned my irises, making me flinch.

A relieved sound hit my ears and the hands cupping my face tightened. "Oh, Peter, thank God!"

Once again, a huge thanks goes to my awesome beta! You're amazing!

And thank you to everyone who reads and supports this story. I'm sorry for taking so long to update!

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