The Never Beginnings

Lost

The wind whipped through Peter's hair. Hook had Wendy by the throat.

"I will make a deal, you pathetic fool! Your life for the girl's! Since you care for  her so dearly!" Hook spat.

Peter struggled against his captors. "LET HER GO HOOK! LET WENDY GO!"

"Say it boy! Say that you love your precious Wendy and I will set her free."Hook pulled Wendy's hair up to his nose and inhaled.

"She is such a delight some little thing isn't she? All those stories, the flying, fighting side by side. It stirred feelings inside you Peter did it not? You craved her smile, you lived for her laughter, you longed for the next moment when it was just the two of you. Your heart pounded when she was near, you felt dizzy, and you felt brighter than the stars when she gave you that special look."

Hook clawed at Wendy's chin, turning her to face Peter. Peter stopped struggling and looked up with scared eyes. Hook had hit very close to home, and he knew it.

"Yes Peter that look! The one that set your skin ablaze. The look of someone who cares deeply for another. The look that, dare I say it, the look that meant she loved you. But dear ME! what an awkward situation! Peter Pan cannot love. HE cannot return her look. Because if Peter Pan allowed himself to love, he would grow up. And that is something Peter Pan Promised he would never do!"

Hook forced Wendy's face upwards and looked into her frightened eyes.

" So miss darling, Since Peter Pan cannot return your feelings, he must not care for you. He cannot say how important you are to him. He cannot tell you how you have become his world. His happiest thought. He cannot say he loves you, because that would be admitting something far worse. That Peter Pan is a Coward and a Grown Up."

Hook jerked her head forwards to look at Pan. Peter was bravely trying not to let the tears fall. But Hook's words had clawed their way into his heart. Encircling his mind in the painful truth. He was a coward. He could not say any of that to Wendy. He was a boy. He was deficient. He didn't know what love meant, but maybe everything that Wendy was to him, was love. But he couldn't admit it, it was a grown up thing, and Hook was right, Peter would Never grow up.

"Peter Pan," Hook continued on maliciously. "Since you will never admit that you care for the girl, she must mean nothing to you. So you won't really mind when I do this!"

Hook clamped his hook around the girl's neck and with his other hand pressed the barrel of his gun deeply into her waist, and fired.

The shot resonated throughout all of Neverland, shattering time itself. The shock was catatonic. No one moved, no one made a sound. All stood in silent horror. Peter stopped struggling against the chains, the tears on his face frozen in tragic disbelief. Open mouthed he could not comprehend what just happened. Wendy crumpled against the captain, blood seeping through her nightgown.

Hook gathered the girl into what could be mistaken for as a comforting hug. Stroking her hair with his hook, he whispered in Wendy's ear.

"Shhh, shhh, There, there my dear, I know it hurts, but it will all be over soon." And with that Hook pulled the trigger. Exploding a second shot into the girl's fragile frame.

This shot broke the silence. The reaction was instantaneous. Lost boys left and right called out for their wounded mother fighting with renewed vigor; only to have to stop and cover their ears a moment later.

The horror that was Peter's scream gouged the very life source of Neverland. Peter shook in his bonds pulling them to the breaking point. Trembling with rage and loss, eyes streaming, he screamed. The raw, earsplitting, blast ripped through the crew, tearing their souls in twain. So powerful and excruciatingly animalistic was Peter's cry.

He cried out for Wendy, whose limp body dangled in the arms of her murderer. He cried out for the fear that he would never see her lovely eyes so full of life and smile glittering with laughter. He cried from the physical pain that it brought. He could not bear it. He cried for his heart that would never mend. He cried for the loss of his happiest thought. He cried because he might never fly again. He cried because he was afraid. He could not follow her, go where she went. He cried because he could not save her. He cried because he could not catch her. He cried because he broke his promise. He cried because he failed. He cried out because he was just a child, a boy. And he was deficient. He cried aloud because he could not tell Wendy that he loved her. 

And then Peter's cries turned to rage. He narrowed his eyes. He closed off his bleeding and damaged heart. And he focused on Wendy's killer. 

Peter's chains rattled and creaked. The boat began to shake. The waves grew turbulent and they sky darkened. The crew looked around in fear. Who was this boy who controlled the very elements? What had they done? The lost boys looked at Peter, never had they ever seen their leader this treacherous and dark. They cowered together in fear of what was to come.

Peter gave one last angry battle scream. One last mighty tug on the chains. And one last look at Wendy's bloodied body. Then he was free. ...

...

"WENDY!" Peter thrashed awake, drenched in sweat, tear streaming down his face. He whipped his head around trying to figure out where he was. His heart was thudding furiously, the blood rushing to his head making it throb. It was dark, he was in bed. Safe in the hideout, not on Hook's ship.

Hook's ship. The nightmare came back with painful force.

"Wendy." He croaked, his voice hoarse. Even though it was just a nightmare he had to know. He had to know if she was safe.

Jumping out of bed he bolted across the hideout to her room.

Wendy lay peacefully still in bed, the moonlight streaming through the branches and illuminating her lovely face. Peter's knees went weak; he forced himself to her side. He leaned down to hear her breathing. Tears of relief started to flow when he saw the rise and fall of her chest.

"Wendy! Oh Wendy!" He whispered, clutching the girl's hand. Peter pan cried. He might have lost her, and that pain was too much to hold in. The nightmare was so real, the gunshot ear splitting, and her blood too bright.

Wendy stirred, confused at the noise she was hearing she turned to see Peter kneeling by her bed, her hand in his. "Boy? Why are you crying?"

Peter looked up startled; he wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I wasn't crying."

Wendy gave Peter a kindly smile, she could sense he was distressed and needed come kind of comfort. She scooted over, patting the bed beside her. Peter eagerly climbed up and gathered Wendy into his arms.

"I lost you." Was all he said, and began to sniffle.

Wendy was confused but didn't press questions.

"I'm right here." Wendy cooed, running her fingers through his hair, like her mother used to do when she was upset. This seemed to calm Peter and soon his breathing turned slow and even.

"I'm right here." She whispered, her eyes getting heavy. Neither one could remember falling asleep, but they did. Fast asleep in each other's arms, it banished the nightmares away and the two slept very peacefully.

...