by J. M. Page
Peter rolled his eyes, seeming to enjoy the dance leading up to the fight and the banter with his arch enemy. "Oh yeah? What's that, old man?"
Hook grinned. "Knowing your enemy's weakness."
Peter lunged forward in an attack, but Hook brought his non-sword hand up and opened his clenched fist, unleashing a cloud of fine dust in Peter's face.
Peter sputtered and reeled back, stumbling as he tried to avoid the plume.
"You cheat!" Wendy howled, stepping forward to intervene as Peter's eyes went glassy.
"Ah, ah, ah," Hook tutted, swinging the sword's point around to stop her in her tracks. "This is between the two of us." Then, turning back to Peter, he taunted, “This is what happens when you don’t firmly establish the rules, Pan.” He chuckled, but the sound was anything but merry.
Hook swung his sword and Peter feebly blocked, blinking, trying to shake off the effect of the dust. Muscle memory worked in his favor as he tried to scramble back and gather his wits.
"Peter, you can do this," Wendy cried, her hands clutching her chest. This was their worst fear — him being sucked into the world of dusted numbness again. Wendy saw the toll it was taking on him. His eyes were unfocused and shiny, his grip on the sword limp. He looked like a wax sculpture version of himself — an uncanny likeness, but devoid of any life.
"Please Peter, you have to fight it," she said as Hook pressed him back further toward the wall of paintings.
Peter shook his head, focus returning long enough for him to launch a flurry of strikes against Hook, each one blocked, but the last one actually scratched his shoulder. The white linen shirt Hook wore bloomed with red as his blood seeped into the fibers. Peter shot a wink Wendy's way, his haughty confidence back.
But as quickly as it came, it fled and Peter was stumbling again under the weight of his own apathy.
"You've stolen from me for the last time," Hook rumbled, using the weight of his body to hurl Peter against the wall. A vase toppled from its pedestal, shattering. The sound broke through Peter's haze enough for him to push Hook off of him. His eyes kept focusing and unfocusing, Peter blinking rapidly and shaking his head, trying valiantly to fight off the effects of the dust.
Wendy could hardly stand to watch. She needed to do something, but what?
Peter lost his balance and tottered into the fountain, spilling water on Hook's undoubtedly expensive rug. Hook didn't seem to care about the decor. He leveled the tip of his sword at Peter and advanced, only to be caught off-guard when Peter splashed him.
"Face it, Hook, you can't beat me," Peter said. It certainly sounded like something he'd say, but it somehow didn't sound like him. His voice was far off and devoid of the joy Peter typically got from taunting his opponent.
Hook sneered and barked out a menacing laugh. "Is that so? How are you feeling right now?" His lip curled in a cruel grin. "Or, should I ask, are you feeling?"
He leaped toward Peter, surprisingly agile, and Peter fell to the soaked carpet in his attempt to get away. The sword fell from his hand and he reached for it, his fingers hardly moving at all as his eyes glazed over.
"No! Peter, you can't give up!" Wendy shouted, wishing there was another sword or something that she could help with. Every time she got near, Hook threatened her again and Peter was too out of it to take advantage of the opening.
"You're wrong about him, dear. He always gives up. He's weak. Always has been," Hook said with a growl, pressing the point of his sword into the hollow of Peter's throat.
"I'd ask if you have any last words, Pan, but you seem to be inarticulate at the moment."
Wendy dropped to her knees on the floor, doing her best to get down to Peter's level even if she couldn't get close to him.
"Peter, please! You have to fight this. You have to feel. Remember all the wonderful things? That night on the roof? That day at the cafe? Please Peter, fight this... for me." The words felt strange coming out of her mouth. Wendy had never really asked for anything just for herself. She'd never dared be so selfish. But now? Well, she'd earned the right to be a little selfish.
Peter's head turned toward her and her heart leaped with joy when she saw the focus and attention in his eyes. He wasn't gone. He was there. Hook dug the sword point into his throat and Wendy saw something else in Peter's eyes — resignation. He was accepting defeat.
"I'm sorry Wendy," he choked. "I wish I could have done more to show you how much I love you." His hand reached out for her and Wendy wanted to go to him more than she'd ever wanted anything.
He'd done it. He fought the dust for her. Enough to tell her how he felt and actually be able to feel it. But it still wasn't enough.
"Well, this is all very touching," Hook said, his voice bored. "But I've wasted enough time on you today."
The first spot of blood trickling from Hook's sword was enough to send Wendy into a blind rage. She dove forward and grabbed Peter's discarded sword, brandishing it at Hook in defiance.
"Get away from him!"
Hook laughed. "Dear, do you even know what to do with that? Put that down before you hurt yourself."
"I know enough that I could ruin your day," she growled, shoving the point of her sword upward until it prodded him in the chest.
All the amusement drained from Hook's face and he knocked her sword aside with a bellowing roar. "Enough! Peter's lost the wager and you belong to me now. You can't fight in his stead and you can't save him."
Wendy's heart raced, trying to come up with something, anything, while Hook swung his sword around to Peter again, but she was frozen with panic and fear. She'd failed and now they were all going to be trapped here forever.
"Maybe she can't, but I can," said a voice from the doorway.
"Tink!" Wendy cried, scrambling to her feet. Tink and both the boys stood in the door, and just beyond them, Wendy spotted the guard who'd led her and Peter, standing there, looking dazed and confused.
Hearing Tinker Bell was too enticing for Hook. He turned around to face her and a predatory gleam lit in his eyes. "My beautiful Bell, come back to me at long last," he said, taking two long strides toward her.
Tink rolled her eyes. "You wish," she said, crossing her arms.
Hook was unfazed, inching nearer to her still. "I've dreamed of this day, you know. You never stopped belonging to me."
"Gross. Do you even hear yourself?" Tink said, scrunching up her nose. Then she shook her head. "Let them all go, James. I'll stay with you."
"You can't!" Michael protested with a gasp, but Tink ignored him.
"Well?" she asked, lifting her chin to meet him in the eye.
Hook sauntered toward her, his hand skimming over her hip. Wendy didn't know how she managed to not recoil from his touch. "You misunderstand, Bell. Peter here has already wagered for your freedom, and, as you can see, he's lost. You already belong to me. You have nothing to bargain for."
Tink swallowed, her eyes darting to Wendy for confirmation. "No matter," she said. "I've gotten away from you before, and I can do it again. But if you let them go, I will stay willingly. I won't fight you or try to escape."
Hook's fingers dug into her hip as he considered it. "That's a very tempting offer, my sweet," he said, dipping down to her neck to inhale her scent, his free hand now caressing her shoulder as she visibly repressed a shudder.
A ferocious roar ripped from Michael's throat, his face contorted in fury as he lifted his hand. "Get your hands off of her!" he howled, unleashing one of his plasma balls at Hook.
The ball struck Hook in the shoulder, sending him bumbling backwards, frantically patting out the flames smoldering on his shirt as the smell of charred flesh and smoke filled the room.
"Now, John!" Tink called and John obeyed her command, performing an intricate hand movement that left Wendy transfixed for a moment. He created a rope of fire with his deft movements, and coiled it around Hook to where he couldn't move at all if he didn't want to be burned more. He was trapped and ineffectual, shouting in protest.
"Told you that was a good one to practice," Michael said, nudging his brother in the ribs with his elbow.
Wendy blinked, not sure she believed it was all over so quickly. She didn't know whether to rush to her brothers or to Peter, her head whipping back and forth between them.
"We're fine," John chided, inclining his head toward Peter.
“What are you wearing?” added Michael.
Wendy just smiled and shook her head, not wasting any time darting to Peter’s side, dabbing her fingers against the spot of blood on his neck. "Peter, are you alright?"
His eyes fluttered open, glassy and distant, but then they settled on her face and his pupils contracted, focusing on her. "Wendy..." he breathed.
She got to her feet, holding a hand out for him. "Come on, get up. It's all over."
That wasn't entirely true; Hook still hurled obscenities at them and the boys were casually discussing incinerating him, but for the moment, the danger had passed and they were all safe.
Peter took her hand and stood, yanking her arm toward him so that she fell into his arms. He leaned down and seared a kiss to her lips, imbuing it with all the words he didn't seem to be able to say in that moment. She understood though. She felt the same. "Thank you," he whispered.
She met his eyes with a question in her own.
He shook his head, sweeping her hair behind her ear. "If it wasn't for you, I never would have been able to fight the dust at all."
Wendy smiled, cupping his stubbled jaw with her palm. "How do you feel now?"
Peter kissed her again, grinning this time. "Like I want to finish what I started."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Peter
As Peter looked at Wendy, so sweet and incredible, he was filled with an overwhelming gratitude. She'd done something for him that no one and nothing else ever had. She'd helped him be him again. And with the fresh flush of exertion from fighting Hook and the shiny happy tears glittering in her eyes from knowing they'd won, Wendy had never looked more beautiful to him.
But there would be time for celebration later. Right now, he had to finish this with Hook, once and for all.
He left Wendy standing there and went over to Hook, admiring the handiwork of the fiery cage he was trapped in. Peter looked over his shoulder to John. "You did this?"
John nodded, beaming with pride.
"Way to go, bud. Nice work, really." Peter strolled a circle around Hook, stroking his chin. "Seems like I defeated you after all," he said with a smirk. "Now, about our wager..."
"Nonsense! You didn't defeat me. You outnumbered me," Hook spat.
Peter clenched his fists, biting back his immediate retort. "That's what happens when you don't firmly establish the rules," Peter threw his words back at him. "So, you're going to release all the performers and customers, do you understand? No more of these shenanigans."
"And the dust," Wendy prompted. "He can't keep that, he'll just do it again."
"Right, of course. Where are you hiding your stash, Hooky?" Peter asked, prodding him with his toe.
Hook remained resolutely silent.
"We were at a different location then, but when I worked for him, he always had a secret compartment under his desk for important things. I'd be willing to bet that habit hasn't left him," Tink said, looking at Hook like he was something rotten and reeking in her trash pail.
John darted around the hideous marble slab desk and crouched down. "Yep, there's definitely some kind of hatch down here. Locked though," he said.
Peter prodded Hook again, this time in the scorched part of his shoulder — Peter was sure he had Michael to thank for that.
"Where's the key?" he asked.
Hook hissed but still glared at Peter, not giving up anything. "You're never going to stop me. You can take what dust I have. You can even take away all my people, but I'll get more. And I'll keep doing the same thing. That's the beauty of this scheme, the beauty you'll never understand. People forget. They don't trust their own minds because they forgot. And then, next thing you know, they're right back here. You might slow me down for a little while, but you'll never stop me and now I won't sleep until your dumpy little theater is razed."
Tink laughed out loud, dissolving into giggles while Peter, Wendy, and Hook all looked at her baffled and dismayed.
"You are really stupid!" she squealed between laughs. "Did you get all that Mikey?"
Mikey? Peter wondered, but filed that away for another day.
"Yep," Michael said, patting the secret camera they'd hidden on his person the day before.
"No disrupters in his office," Tink said, answering Wendy's confused look. "He's too arrogant to think he'd need one. And now we have his confession on file. Way to go James, you idiot."
Hook seethed to himself, but he knew he was thwarted once and for all. There was no denying it at this point.
"Come on, cough up the key," Peter said with his hand outstretched.
Hook turned up his nose, not looking at any of them.
Wendy crossed the room to where John was behind the desk and crouched down with him. There were some scraping and clicking sounds, and then her head reappeared over the desk's surface, hefting a heavy sack of dust on top of the marble.
"Nice one," Michael said, nodding appreciatively.
"What... how...?" Peter stammered, Tink looking just as confused as he was.
Wendy shrugged, tossing her hair. "Do you know how many times these two locked me out of a room they were 'experimenting' in? I got really good at picking locks."
"It's true," John said ruefully. "She even managed to hack a keypad lock we installed once."
Wendy just shrugged again, though her little secret smile betrayed how pleased she was with herself.
Peter hurried over to her, still in disbelief, and swept her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly for good measure. "You never cease to amaze me."
She grinned and kissed him back. "The feeling's mutual. But we can do this later. We should get everyone out of here while we can."
Tink nodded curtly, taking the bag of dust. "Michael and I can take care of the guards."
Wendy arched an eyebrow at her brother, and his ears turned fuchsia, but that was the only indication he gave that something was afoot before he followed Tink out of Hook's office.
"I'll try to see if I can disable the ventilation systems to stop more dust from spreading," John said, turning to the bank of monitors where a keyboard seemed to materialize from within the wall. "People will start waking up naturally if they're not exposed anymore."
Peter nodded. "Sounds like a plan." Then to Wendy he took her hand and said, "What do you say? Wanna help me find my lost boys?"
Epilogue
Wendy
"Are you two sure you'll be alright?" Wendy asked, worry creasing the space between her eyebrows.
Michael rolled his eyes. "This again? Still? After everything?"
"Give your sister a break," Peter butted in. "She only worries because she cares," he said with a smile in her direction.
Wendy squeezed his hand in silent thanks. It was nice having someone on her team for once when the boys tried to outnumber her.
"Now, tell your sister that you'll be fine so these two can go on their honeymoon and get out of our hair," Tink said, one hand slipping over Michael's shoulder from behind, dipping down to his chest as she whispered in his ear, loud enough that they could all hear her in the quiet of the theater.
"We're going to be just fine," John said for him. "Enjoy your time away. We'll keep everything running like clockwork."
"See?" Peter said, his arm going around Wendy's waist and pulling her close. "I told you they could handle this. They've been practically running the show themselves the past three months anyway while I've been cleaning up the Jolly Roger."
Peter had been right about the Queen's opinion of Hook's scheme. Wendy still didn't fully grasp interplanetary politics, but this Queen lady didn't sound like anyone she ever wanted to cross. H
ook had been arrested and sent to some prison on a far-off space station where no one ever escaped. Without Hook around to run the place, the Jolly Roger shuttered its doors and Peter, Alina, and a few other producers from around Neverland had banded together to make it something new. A place that felt much more like the 'old' Neverland that Peter loved so much. The Queen had also offered him a hefty reward for bringing Hook to justice. Enough to pay off the loan sharks and refurbish the theater with some to spare.
There was a lot of work to do once all those people woke up from the dust, too. Some people had been missing from their families for over a year, and some had complete amnesia after the prolonged effects. It was a mess, but having been through the recovery before, Peter was happy to help people navigate the daily struggles of coming back to normal life.
Wendy admired that about her new husband. He wasn't the selfish self-centered man she'd met so many months ago. He was compassionate and resilient. Determined to make his home the place it had always been in his mind.
"What are you two still doing here?" Monroe came in from the wings, carrying an armful of lumber for the new set. "Isn't your ship set to leave any minute now?"
His two counterparts — Slim and Curly, their real names, everyone insisted — followed him with buckets of paint and brushes. "Get out of here, man," Slim said.
Wendy smiled. Those three were a lot like her brothers in many ways. She could see why Peter had cared about them so much before. And why he'd gotten attached to her brothers so quickly.
But leaving the five of them together almost seemed like they were begging to come back to rubble.
"I promise I won't let anyone burn the place down," Curly chimed in, making everyone chuckle. They stocked fire extinguishers in bulk these days. The tricks and stunts only got wilder and wilder as time went on, but Wendy didn't try to interfere any more. And miraculously, there had only been minor injuries. The boys' hearts seemed stronger than ever, too. Maybe made even stronger by their respective love interests.
