Planet Neverland: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  She thought that over for a long time, staring up at the ceiling before letting out an exasperated puff of breath. "I don't even know anymore. Neverland has a way of blurring one's morals, it seems," she said, her lips pursed together by the end.

  Peter laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand up to his lips, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. "I guess it does. But it's not all bad. Come on, what do you say we have a nice quiet dinner, just the two of us?"

  Wendy seemed resigned to his decision now, hesitating only a moment before nodding and squeezing his hand back. "I'd love to."

  The next couple of days went by in a blur of rehearsals and preparations for the big day. The boys had been working harder than ever, preparing themselves for the actual performance on stage, as well as the performance of being in the casino and looking unsuspecting while they tried to figure out how Hook was managing what he was doing. It was a big undertaking for the two boys that generally weren't deceptive at all, but between Peter and Tink, they'd coached them as well as they could.

  After the last run-through of the night, while the boys were cleaning up and packing their supplies for tomorrow, Tink approached Peter, her arms folded and her expression pinched.

  "Do you think they're ready?" she asked.

  Peter looked toward the stage and the boys' roughhousing and smiled. "Yeah, I think so."

  Tink's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Because I don't. One little slip-up on their part and we could lose them too. Can we really afford to lose the only crew we have left?"

  Peter patted her on the shoulder. "It's all going to be fine. They're going to be spectacular. Have some faith."

  Tink still didn't seem sure about it, opening her mouth to say something else before looking back to Peter's confident determination. She shrugged. "Alright, if you say so. You're the boss."

  But as she walked away, Wendy approached, her eyebrows drawn together, her hands wringing in front of her. "Did I just hear that right? Tink doesn't think you should send them in?"

  Peter bit back his anger that Tink had made Wendy so uncertain again, and instead took her hand in his. "Trust me," he said. "They can handle this."

  Wendy worried her bottom lip until it was red and swollen. Ripe for kissing, but now wasn't the time. "You were supposed to tell them they couldn't do it by now. You were supposed to be on my side."

  Deep in her verdant eyes, Peter saw the distrust, the doubt, the shadow of worry taking over everything else in his beautiful Wendy's mind. He slid his hands up her arms until they rested on her shoulders. "I am on your side, Wendy. I always will be. But right now, your brothers need us to be on their side, too."

  He inclined his head toward the stage, turning her slightly with gentle pressure on her shoulders. "How do you think they'd feel if they hadn't been able to distract themselves with the preparations? How would they be feeling about the show the other night?"

  Wendy's eyes traveled over the stage, soaking in the sight of her brothers laughing and joking without a care in the world. Nothing like the downtrodden look they'd had the night of the disastrous show. Nothing at all like that look of self-loathing and failure.

  She sighed. "They'd be really depressed and hate themselves," she said, dropping her chin in concession.

  "Exactly," Peter said gently, his hands skirting down her arms to find her hands, lacing their fingers together. "This is the only way they think they can redeem themselves. Now, you know that no one blames them, and I know that, but they don't get it and they refuse to accept it. In their minds, the failure the other night was their fault and this is the only way to fix it. Do you really want me to call it off?"

  Wendy drew her lips between her teeth, thinking it over. He could see the debate written across her expression as clearly as if she'd said it aloud. She wanted him to call it off, yes, but she knew he had a point. If they called this whole thing off now, the boys would never forgive any of them — especially themselves.

  She exhaled heavily and met his gaze with her shimmering eyes. "You really think they're ready?"

  Peter set his jaw and nodded once. "I promised you I wouldn't send them in unless I did. They can do this. They're strong, they're smart, and they're determined to prove themselves."

  Wendy's mouth drooped on one side. "That's what I'm afraid of," she said softly.

  Peter reached up and took a piece of her silken hair between his fingers, tucking it back behind her ear with a smile. "I have an idea," he said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "We'll give them little cameras and mics so we know what's going on and you can keep an eye on them from a distance. How's that sound?"

  Wendy's smile was slow to start, but then she nodded, leaning into his hand. "I guess if I can see them, there's not a lot I can worry about, right?"

  A low chuckle rumbled in his chest and Peter leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, wrapping her up in his arms. "Absolutely right, love."

  The next morning, Peter and Tink outfitted the boys with the hidden spy equipment. Wendy couldn't stop fussing over them, straightening a collar here, smoothing down a stray hair there, telling John to stand up straighter and Michael to stop fidgeting.

  "We're fine, Wen," Michael grumbled, pushing her away.

  Wendy had one arm wrapped around herself and one hand resting over her heart, just looking at them with watery eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to. You can change your mind and no one will be mad at you."

  John rolled his eyes. "We'll see you guys in a few hours," he said to Tink and Peter.

  "Try not to worry yourself into a heart attack," Michael said. "That's our territory."

  Wendy dropped her jaw and shoved him. "Not funny, Michael."

  He shrugged, grinned, and gave her a quick hug. "We'll be fine."

  As the boys left the theater en route to the Jolly Roger, Peter had a knot of worry growing in his gut. But he was sure it would be alright. That's what he'd been telling everyone all along. It would be fine. The boys would come out unscathed, they'd have the other guys with them, and the show would be back in full force so they could save the theater.

  It was all going to work out.

  The three of them gathered in the green room in front of a pair of monitors — one for each boy — and watched as the giant glittering tower came into view. In a matter of minutes, they were walking up to the grand double doors and through the threshold. Peter exhaled, not even realizing he'd been holding his breath up until this point.

  The inside of the casino was as Peter imagined it would be — sparkling crystal and gold all around, wide sweeping archways and decorative columns big enough to hide three people behind. It was just the kind of gaudy monstrosity that Peter expected from a man like Hook. But there really was no accounting for taste. Lots of people were wowed by that kind of thing. Peter preferred something with a little more charm and character.

  "They're in!" Wendy whispered, like people in the casino would be able to hear her if she spoke too loudly.

  Peter nodded, watching the monitors carefully. "Yes, but that's the easy part," he said.

  As the boys looked around the enormous casino, Peter took a good long look at the patrons of the Jolly Roger. At slot machines or tables, they all had the same vacant look in their eyes, mindlessly pressing buttons and forking over chips. He recognized that look, the glazed expression, the thoughtless movements. They'd all been dusted.

  Peter tensed in his seat, clasping his hands together tightly. He looked over at Tink, expecting her to see what he did, but she didn't seem to notice it. Neither of them noticed anything amiss at all, totally focused on what the boys were doing.

  "Oh, they're headed to the sign-up table," Wendy said, pointing at the screen like they weren't all watching the same thing. Peter knew she was just trying to hide her nerves — after all, it was too late to change their minds and she just had to make the best out of it — but he wasn't capable of comforting her. Not when the weight of this revelation threatened to crush him.


  Could he be wrong about it? Maybe they were all just exhausted from being awake too long. Maybe they were bleary-eyed from staring at screens for so long... Maybe... Maybe he was just trying to delude himself. They were dusted; there was no doubt.

  A boy not much older than the twins greeted them, holding out a tablet for them to sign their names on. He assigned them a number and gestured toward the room behind him.

  Wendy fidgeted in her seat, her hands pressed between her knees, her eyes glued to the screen. The boys stepped into the next room — a big empty space full of chairs and a carpet that looked like someone had splattered paint all over it, even though that was the design. They weren't alone in this cavernous room, though. There was all kinds of activity. Other performers practicing and milling about the room. Peter spotted more than a few of them utterly botching their tricks and felt a smug sense of superiority that his boys were better than that.

  Off in the far corner of the room, there was a familiar portly figure, his thin mustache curled on the ends, a booming laughter following in his wake.

  "Hook," Tinker Bell hissed, her face turning magenta. If anyone on Neverland hated Hook more than Peter, it was Tink.

  Wendy stifled a snort of laughter. "That's the guy you're all so afraid of? He looks like a cross between a used car salesman and my Uncle George, the banker that chews with his mouth open." She hid her giggles behind her hand and Tink just kept fuming.

  "Don't let his looks deceive you," Peter said. "He's a ruthless businessman and doesn't care who he steps on on his way to success."

  Wendy sobered a little, but still looked suspicious that Hook could be all that dangerous. Good, let her stop worrying so much for a little while.

  "Oh no," Tink said, burying her head in her hands. "He's coming to talk to them."

  Sure enough, Hook was headed straight for the twins and Peter could tell by the shaky camera movements that the boys were nervous and fidgeting.

  "Is that... bad?" Wendy asked as Hook greeted the boys with a big smile and asked them where they were from.

  Peter swallowed. "That depends, how good are your brothers at lying?"

  Wendy frowned, plucking at the hem of her shirt absently now, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Um..."

  Peter nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

  "What is it you boys do?" Hook asked, his expression genuinely curious. Peter could see how people were taken in by him. He looked harmless enough and he was far too friendly, but it was all a veneer over the rottenness deep inside.

  "What if he sees through them?" Tink asked, sounding genuinely nervous for the first time. All along she'd been mildly apprehensive about the whole thing, but willing to take the chance, knowing that getting the guys back was their only real course to save the show. And Tink never really seemed all that worried for the safety of others, but the Darlings seemed to have wormed their way into her heart the same way they had his.

  The twins prattled on about their act to Hook, and he nodded along, smiling.

  Peter shook his head. "We just have to hope that doesn't happen. We gave them a solid cover story. As long as they stick to the script, they should be fine."

  Tink still looked uncertain, drawing her legs up into the chair with her, crossing one over the other so she could lean forward with her elbows resting on her thighs. "Let's hope."

  Hook laughed and his hands crossed the field of the camera's view, but both cameras bounced like the boys had just been clapped on the shoulders. "I can tell you two are gonna be big stars here, just by looking at you!"

  The knot of unease in Peter's stomach tightened until he was sure he'd never be able to unravel it again.

  Talking to Hook was never a part of the plan. The boys were supposed to get in, find the missing performers, figure out why they hadn't left the Jolly Roger, and maybe — if at all possible — help get them out. Maybe. But no one was ever supposed to talk to the man himself.

  Peter ran his palms against his pant legs, trying to dry them.

  "Why don't you boys come with me? It's a zoo in here, but we've got a quieter room where you can prepare and relax until we call your number," Hook said.

  The boys looked at each other, each monitor filling with one of the twins. They shared a silent conversation before shrugging and following him.

  Peter tapped his foot, shaking his leg and drumming his fingers on the table top. "Maybe this will be good," he said, looking over to the girls. "I mean, if they're given access to a more restricted area, they'll have a better shot of finding something useful."

  He still neglected to mention that all the patrons of the casino looked dusted out of their minds.

  Wendy shot him an incredulous look, not buying his attempt at placating her for even a moment. She knew as well as he did that this was not a good development for them.

  And she was right. The moment the boys walked through the door Hook led them to, the feed cut out and the screens turned to static.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wendy

  The screens cut to black and white snow the instant the boys crossed through the door and Wendy jumped up to her feet, sending her chair skittering across the floor behind her.

  "What happened? Where did they go?" she demanded.

  Peter groaned, dropping his head to his hand. "Hook must have some kind of signal disrupter to prevent anyone from learning the secrets of his show. There are a few paranoid people with that kind of thing around Neverland... I should've known he'd have one."

  Wendy didn't even know how to process what he was saying. "What does that mean? Are they okay? How will we know what's happening? We need to go get them. We can't just leave them in there."

  She was talking too fast and tripping over her words, gesturing wildly like a madwoman, but Wendy didn't care. Something was going on and her brothers were in trouble. There was no time to waste.

  Her pulse thundered through her veins and she couldn't help but remember how she didn't immediately jump to her parents' rescue when the first niggle of worry sprang up all those years ago. Back then, she'd convinced herself everything was fine and she was worrying for nothing.

  That was the last time she'd made that mistake. She worried for a reason and it kept her whole family intact and safe. Until Peter showed up making her question her methods.

  But she had to trust her instincts and her instincts were telling her that they needed to save the boys as quickly as possible before something terrible happened to them. If it hadn't already.

  "This is all too dangerous," she said. "We never should have sent them in there. I shouldn't have let you." She knew that last point was moot. Whether she'd agreed to it or not, the boys were going to go into Hook's casino to prove themselves. Only now she had the aching guilt that she was complicit in their demise.

  Tink just stared at Wendy with an arched brow, her arms folded, and her lips pursed, looking at Wendy like she'd lost her mind. But Wendy didn't care. Let them think she was crazy. No one here could possibly understand how much her brothers meant to her and no one here cared about her brothers even half as much as she did. She couldn't let something happen to them. She'd never survive it. They were all she had left.

  Peter stood slowly, picking up Wendy's chair and righting it next to his. He put his hand on her arm and gently pulled her back to her seat, guiding her to sit down. For some reason, Wendy let him. Her mind raced and her body struggled to expend the wave of anxious energy, but having Peter's steady presence there seemed to calm her. Or, at least, she was able to shut down the incessant litany of 'what ifs' long enough to hear him out.

  "Let's just give them some time," he said. "Just because the signal died doesn't mean anything bad is happening. They worked really hard prepping for this and if we cut it short before they learn anything, it was all for nothing and we don't get another shot. They'll be recognized after this. You're just letting your worry get the best of you again. Remember, they're all grown up and capable of handling themselves now."

>   Wendy lifted her hands enough to see how badly they were trembling and she tried to force herself to listen to his reason and calm down, sinking back into the chair. Her heart still raced like it was in the running for a gold medal, but she focused on slow, even breaths.

  "I guess," she said. "They'd be really angry at me if I just ruined their whole plan because of a malfunction in the camera or something," she added, playing the words in her head over and over until they sank in. This was as much for the boys as it was for anyone else. She needed to prove that she wasn't the smothering worry-prone sister that they could barely stand to be around. She needed to prove that she wasn't the killer of all things fun. She needed to prove to herself that things could work out without her intervention, or she'd never let them have room to breathe. And they deserved it. They deserved the freedom she'd denied them. They deserved the chance to live their life the way they saw fit, even if it did seem likely to drive her to an early grave.

  Peter flashed a reassuring smile and intertwined his fingers with hers. "Exactly. It'll be fine."

  So they waited, staring at the snowy screen, straining their ears for any hint of a sound coming from the boys.

  And they waited, Wendy chewing off every last one of her nails until they were nothing at all.

  And they waited.

  The signal never came back, but for a while, they still looked to the door periodically, all silently, secretly hoping the boys would walk through at any moment.

  Tink paced behind them, while Wendy hunted for a nail she may have overlooked.

  "They should've been back by now," Tink said, throwing up her hands.

  Wendy looked up from her mangled fingertips to glance in Peter's direction. There was no mistaking the worry in his eyes. They were all tired after a long day of uncertainty. Exhausted and on edge from the long days leading up to this and now the nerve-fraying concern.