Chapter 24 - Liar, Liar

 

      She screamed, fighting the hands that held her down.  Panic consumed her, making her deaf to her godfather's calls, unable to remember that this was only a memory.  "SOLOMON!" she cried desperately, calling for the only ally she had left in the world.

      "Peter!" Oberon called again, his mental voice cracking with pain and worry.  He struggled with the magic that surrounded her, trying to break her free.  The collar was wrapped about her like a chain, binding these terrible memories to her, forcing her to live them.  He couldn't just break the collar's magic, though, because it was helping him save her life, and without it he'd fail.  The memory spells were collapsing, falling one upon the other like the levels of a crumbling tower.  The explosion of magic from one failed spell crashed into the next level, gaining momentum as it continued.

      Oberon was using every ounce of power he had to shield Peter's consciousness against the collapse, taking the brunt of the backlash of energy upon himself instead of allowing it to consume her vulnerable mind.  But the onslaught was building and the increasing blows were wearing away his shield and his sanity.  He called desperately to Peter as he reeled from the onslaught.  If she could just see him, if she could pull herself out of the memory and help him, they both might survive.  If he failed, the shattering spells would likely kill him before crushing Peter's mind under their fury.

      Oberon saw one of the boys in the memory, - Jonas he remembered the boy was called - settle between Peter's knees, laughing and leering, cheered on by the others.  "Troll spawn!" Oberon spat at the youth, marking him.  If that brat still lived in the mortal world, he wouldn't maintain that privilege for much longer.

      "SOLOMON!"  Peter screamed again.  Jonas punched her, telling her to be silent… but it soon became apparent that her cries were being heeded.  Sounds arose, cries of dozens of birds, myriads of wings in flight.  The gang of youths began swearing, ducking and flailing as streaks of white, black, brown, and red began to weave among them.  In the wake of the streaks, arms and faces were left bleeding from scores of cuts and scratches, pecks and gouges.  A large owl alighted next to Peter's head, covering her face with his large wings, hooting softly to her.  Peter rolled onto her side, curling up as she sobbed.  Jonas began screaming as he fell away from her, his arms over his head, flailing at a large seagull that was intent on removing an eye.

      "What the…" Oberon began, wondering at the strange rescue, his attention straying for one brief instant from the task of shielding her mind.  In that instant, Hook’s claw tore through the collar, ripping it from Peter's neck, and the fairy king felt his link to the girl begin to crumble without the collar to sustain it.  The backlash of magic from the destroyed collar exploded over him in a blinding agony.  He screamed in pain, hearing his scream echoed by Peter across their rapidly fading connection.  No… he thought dimly, her cries stirring him to action, I have to protect her!

      With the last of his strength he reached out, reestablishing the link through sheer force of will, drawing most of the broken magic away from her and bearing the assault himself to spare his godchild.  He was the King of the Fairies and the Warden of Neverland, and few creatures of his kind were his equals in power, but even for him the wash of energy was too much.  He felt himself shattered into pieces moments before blessed oblivion descended upon him.

      "Peter," he whispered as he faded away, not even knowing if his sacrifice had spared his daughter.

---

      Hook cried out at the agony coursing through his right arm, up his shoulder and straight to his heart.  It hurt more than he'd ever been hurt before, even more than when his hand had been severed.  He thought he'd die of a heart attack, the faithful organ stuttering at the surge of power invading his body… but then, inexplicably and with a suddenness that made him gasp, the pain receded.  His pulse settled and his rigid muscles relaxed, and only when he'd fully calmed did he dare to open his eyes.

      It was quiet… too quiet.  Gloriana and Oberon both lay on the floor, silent and unmoving, and he dismissed them as unimportant.  If they were dead, so much the better.  He turned his attention to the girl in his arms, moving her so that she lay face-up across his lap.  Her body was limp, like a rag-doll, her eyes closed and her skin pale.  Her cheeks were wet from her tears.

      "Kitten?" he called, gently patting her cheeks in an effort to rouse her.  An angry red welt encircled her neck where the collar had been and she was unconscious, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.  "Pan!" he called louder, shaking her slightly.  "Peter Pan!"

      Peter's eyes flew open, fixing instantly upon Hook's face.  She stared at him blankly for a moment before a shudder went through her.  "They hurt me," she whimpered, her face crumpling into an expression of abject misery as she began to wail.

      Hook winced at the sound, her cries setting his head to ringing painfully, but he ignored his discomfort and pulled her closer in an effort to calm her.  Her arms clutched at him, wrapping around his body in a death-grip as she began to sob hysterically.  Hook didn't try to console her with meaningless words or useless gestures.  He just held her tightly, letting her vent her pain until she was done.  His triumph felt rather hollow now that it was done.  He owned her, he owned Peter Pan and she was his to do with as he pleased.  But now was not the time for celebration, which was just as well because he didn't have the energy for such exuberant feelings.  The only emotion he had the energy to feel was a dull anger, raw and undirected, at those who had harmed his property.  He wanted to protect her, needed to avenge her, and he was at a complete loss as to what he should do now.

      His door opened and Smee, followed by the other men, entered cautiously.  They'd heard the screams and come to investigate - after a heated debate as to the wisdom of confronting anything that would make Hook scream.  They were all armed, and each one stared at the man and the pair on the floor, their confusion and alarm evident.  Hook nodded at the prone forms.  "Wake them up.  If they're dead, and I rather hope they are, throw their useless corpses overboard."

      "Are ya alright, Cap'n?  An' th' wee lass?" Smee asked, feeling more concerned for the hysterical girl than his captain.

      "We're fine," Hook answered, his exhaustion increasing.  What in the name of Blackbeard's blisters is wrong with me?  "Just deal with those two and I'll deal with the child."

      Smee nodded, sending Cookson to fetch water, Mullins and Mason to check on Oberon while he and Starkey looked to Gloriana.  Billy, momentarily forgotten, turned to his captain.  Fear clawed at his heart, fear that increased when he considered Peter's current state.  He'd felt something strange when the screaming had started, he'd felt an awful tearing and twisting around him, like the air itself was ripping apart.  He didn't know what had happened, none of the other men seemed aware of the nauseating, painful sensations, but he knew something terrible had happened.

      "Cap'n?" Jukes called, glancing nervously at the man's claw.  "Sir?  What's happened to Miss Pan?"

      "Not now, Mr. Jukes," Hook answered, glancing at the youth before returning his gaze to the pixies on the floor.  He really wanted to go to sleep, but he'd be damned if he would until this was sorted out one way or another.  He wasn't letting Pan go until he knew for sure her godparents couldn't take her away from him, and he considered the ramifications of having their bodies weighted and tossed overboard whether or not they still lived.  It would be prudent to wait.  I doubt the other fairies on this isle will take kindly to me murdering their monarchs.  But it was still an entertaining thought.

      "Um, what happened to your hook then, sir?" Billy pressed, eyeing the man's right arm.  "Shall I forge you a new one or try to repair it?"

      Hook frowned, his concern over the boy's words overriding any annoyance he'd have normally felt at Jukes's insistence in bothering him.  He moved his arm, jostling Peter a little so he could lift it and determine what Billy was yammering about.  Considering the pain he'd felt in that arm earlier, he wasn't terribly surprised at what he saw now.  The once-silver steel was blackened, the curved hook twisted and mangled, and from the tip fluttered a tattered black ribbon – the remains of Peter's collar.  Well, Jukes did say the damned thing was booby-trapped.  I suppose I'm lucky to be alive.

      "Yes, Mr. Jukes," he said, lowering his arm again.  "I'll need you to repair or replace my hook.  I'll trust your to experience in determining which option is best."  He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.  Peter's cries were calming somewhat, but it was hard to concentrate when he could feel her body shaking from her sobs.  "Unfasten the hook.  Its useless now and I'll be better off without it."

      "Aye, aye, sir," Billy answered, gingerly touching the claw.  It was warm still and he felt a faint hum that disquieted him.  "I think its salvageable, Cap'n," he said as he unscrewed the twisted metal from the man's cuff.  He recognized the ribbon hanging on the tip and avoided touching it.  The collar was a foul piece of magic and he wanted no part of it, and it filled him with surprising relief to see it was no longer around the girl's neck.

      He spared a few long glances at Peter, worrying for her.  He felt a strange compulsion to soothe her, to take her in his own arms and give her comfort, to quiet the wracking sobs that tugged at his heart.  Once the hook was unfastened, he laid his free hand on the girl's shoulder.  "Do you need…"

      "Don't touch me!" Peter screamed, pulling away from his hand.  "Stop!"

      Billy jerked away, stung by her rebuff. "Sorry, Miss Pan," he apologized quietly.

      "Go, Jukes," Hook admonished, adjusting his hold on the squirming girl.  "She's been sadly mistreated and she's understandably upset.  She'll be fine if she's left alone for now."

      Billy nodded and left, clutching the mangled claw tightly.  He spared a glare at the two pixies.  He just knew that they'd been the ones to hurt Peter; every time they came around, someone got hurt.  He found himself hoping they were both dead, or at the least that they would be soon, remembering all too well the agony and terror they'd inflicted on him the last time he'd seen them.  They'd gone too far when they'd hurt Peter.  As he descended to his workshop, he contemplated weapons that would kill fairies and other magical creatures, his vivid imagination supplying him with some intriguing devices.  If I can't protect her myself, I'll make sure the captain can.

      Gloriana stirred, her head aching dully as the blackness receded.  She heard male voices, unfamiliar and coarse, and a strong arm behind her shoulders that helped her sit up.  The smell registered next – salt, pitch, unwashed bodies… unwashed human bodies.  She groaned in discomfort from both her aching head and stinging nose, and blearily opened her eyes.

      "Begorrah, yer Majesty," Smee said when he saw that she was conscious.  "We was beginnin' ta think we'd have ta douse ya awake."  Smee looked up at Cookson, who was hefting a bucket of seawater and grinning at her.  "Put it away, Cookson, or douse th' other one."

      "Peter," Gloriana called, remembering the danger to her god-daughter.  She pushed Smee away and rose unsteadily to her feet.  She ached from toes to wingtips and she didn't remember exactly what had happened.  Things felt wrong, the magic about her had a strained, painful feel to it.  "Where is Peter?" she repeated, trying to sense the link to her god-daughter.  It was gone, and all that was left along that path were echoes of pain and fear.

      "She's safe enough," Hook said coldly, and Gloriana turned to meet his glare.  "I suggest you pick your liege up off my floor and leave, before I have you both thrown overboard."

      Gloriana blinked in confusion, not really understanding what he was talking about.  All she saw or cared for was the sobbing girl he held.  "Is she hurt?" Gloriana asked, her worry building when she realized how distraught Peter was.  It galled her to see her daughter clinging to Hook so hysterically.  Peter shouldn't be seeking comfort from him!  But she knew they'd driven the girl to that desperation.  They'd exiled her from everyone that truly cared for her and left her bereft of any comforts or love.  In Peter's mind, her only hope was Hook.  Knowing this didn't make it any easier to behold, and Gloriana would be damned before she'd accept it.

      "I don't know," Hook answered truthfully.  "I think she's merely horrified by the memories she's regained."  He rubbed Peter's shoulder gently, looking down at her.  "Let it all out, Kitten.  You're safe now, and I'll kill anyone that tries to hurt you again.  You're mine, and I protect what's mine."

      "Let me have her," Gloriana demanded, stepping towards the captain.  "The magic, it's done something when it collapsed.  I need to make sure she wasn't harmed."

      "I think you have other problems to attend to, Majesty," Starkey interrupted.  "Your husband seems rather bad off."

      Gloriana turned quickly, ignoring the wave of nausea the sudden movement caused, and saw Oberon lying on the floor, unconscious.  His face was grey, his light dim and wavering, and she could sense the magic within him was very damaged and weak.  "Love?" she whispered in alarm, suddenly very frightened.  I have to get him home!  But Peter… she looked to the girl in Hook's arms, knowing Peter likely needed attention, too.  The magic had shattered and the blow that had knocked Gloriana unconscious had been merely a glancing one.  Peter and Oberon had been at the center of the explosion, and both needed to be tended to by a Healer.

      "Let me have her," Gloriana repeated, appealing to the captain again.  "She's hurt…"

      "Your husband hurt her and I won't give you the chance to harm her more!" Hook snapped.  "She is mine, by her own memories she proved herself a deceitful little liar, and by your husband's oath she belongs to me.  She'll calm once you're gone, so I suggest you leave!"

      "I will not!"  Gloriana walked towards them again, ignoring Hook's warning growl.  "The magic is broken and it may have damaged her.  I need to take her back!"

      "Stop it!" Peter screamed, her teary eyes opening to glare first at Hook and then at her godmother.  "Stop fighting!  It's over, you got what you wanted so just leave me alone!  I'm a liar, you were right.  I don't deserve the Gift, everyone was right."  Her voice turned to a whisper, her fists coming up to press against the sides of her head.  "I don't deserve to be loved.  I'm worthless.  No one wants me."

      "I want you, Kitten.  I've wanted you, dead or alive, for a long time," Hook said softly, smiling at Peter.  He put a finger beneath her chin and forced her to look back at him.  "I'm the only one that still wanted you when your secret was revealed.  I'm the only one who hasn't betrayed you or abandoned you."

      Peter felt a small surge of gratitude that eased her despair and grief, helping her to calm somewhat.  She remembered how Hook had been there every time her godparents had hurt her, how he'd given her succor.  He'd listened to her fears and calmed them.  He'd helped her assuage her feelings of guilt and self-loathing over Liam, refusing to pass judgment on her.  She was a liar, worthless and unloved, and she knew that the only place she'd ever belong was here on this ship, surrounded by people as degenerate and undesirable as she.  It was comforting to know that, despite the things she'd done, Hook wouldn't be disgusted or angry with her – but he'd be the only one that felt that way.  Like he said, dead or alive, he'd always want her.  She didn't even want to know what Gloriana or Oberon thought of her now that they'd seen what she really was.  It hurt, knowing that the only person who would accept her was someone that hated her.  It hurt even more to realize that she'd lost her last chance to ever be loved.

      "You aren't worthless, Peter," Gloriana tried to reassure her.  "I want you very much and I'm worried about you.  You're confused and hurt, the memories and the magic was too much.  Let me help you."

      Peter wished she could believe her, she wanted nothing more than to believe she could be forgiven.  She longed to reach out to her godmother, to feel loving arms around her, to hear soft sincere words of comfort that Hook was incapable of saying.  But instead she clung tighter to the captain, afraid of being betrayed once more.  They probably only want me to think they care, so I'll give up my gift to Slightly.  They only want to make sure I'm not hurt because they're afraid the Gift might be damaged.  They don't really care about me, they can't love me and hurt me so much at the same time.  Why should they love me?  I'm just a girl.  The only people that ever loved me are dead, and I killed them.

      "Just go away," Peter pleaded, her voice breaking as she began to cry once more.  "Take Oberon and go away, he's really, really hurt."

      "So are you…"

      "This isn't a choice for her to make," Hook interrupted.  "She's my property and I say she stays.  I won't have you taking her from me, not when she's finally mine.  Whether she lives or dies as a result of your mistreatment, she'll do it here on my ship."

      A surge of fury seized the fairy Queen and she reached out with her power to rip the girl from Hook's arms.  There was a brief flare of light and then the spell died without disturbing a hair on Peter's head.  Gloriana stepped back with a cry of anguish, realizing that she was helpless to retrieve her godchild.  Oberon's word bound Peter to Hook as surely as if he'd chained them together.  She turned to her husband, reaching out with the same spell, and lifted him from the floor to hover beside her.

      He lay in the air, limp and pale, and when she touched his hand it was as cold as ice.  "You stupid fool," she murmured tiredly to him.  "You arrogant, willful fool.  She'd lost to us now."  Gloriana turned to Hook one last time, her eyes burning with anger.  "At least let me bring a proper Healer to her later, once I've tended to my husband.  She could have been harmed magically, and a healer can help her if she has."  She caught Hook's expression and knew he was about to deny her, but she pressed on.

      "I can't take Peter from you, nor can any fairy.  Oberon's vow binds us and I can't touch her while she resides with you, not unless you permit it.  Please, just let me make sure she's safe."  Her voice hitched as a sob escaped her, grief and worry filling her as she realized the truth of her own words.  "I never stopped loving her, no matter how angry with her we were; I always loved and cared for her.  I've always tried to be a mother to her, as much as she'd allow, and I loved her as both a son and a daughter.  Now you're taking my child from me under harsh circumstances.  Let me do what I can for her, to try to make things right."

      Hook felt his resolve slip at the woman's plea, his regard for mothers the soft spot in the armor around his heart.  Gloriana hadn't been much of a mother to Peter, Hook knew that, but he could tell that she did indeed love the girl.  He'd known that from the day she'd placed Peter in his arms and asked him to be kind.  Most of this mess was her husband's doing.  "If Peter wishes it, once she's calmed, I'll let you bring a healer to see her," he answered.

      "Thank you," Gloriana whispered, laying one hand over her heart, the other over her husband's.  It was probably the only concession she'd get out of the man and for now it was enough.  Oberon was Peter's only hope, and Gloriana knew if her husband didn't get help soon, she'd lose the two people she cared about most.  When he's well, he'll find a way around the Law.  We'll get her back... somehow.  They faded away, the rustling sound rising and fading with them.  A few pensive moments passed, the men silently staring at the place the fairies had been, and the only sound was Peter's quiet sobs and sniffs.

      When it was apparent that they were truly gone, Hook looked to his men.  "Back to your duties, boys.  Leave Jukes be, he's commissioned to work on my hook and I want it done quickly.  You know your business.  Now get out."  His voice was cold steel, without a hint of the exhaustion that filled him.

      The men left quickly, confused by what had happened but knowing better than to ask for an explanation.  They knew Pan's condition was likely due to the two fairies, every time they showed up, they left the girl worse off than when they'd arrived.  It was actually an improvement this time that she was still conscious.  As fond of Miss Pan as they'd become (relatively speaking, of course) none of them cared enough to learn more until the captain had calmed down.  With or without his claw, he was still more than capable of doing them great harm when upset, and nothing ever got the man more worked up than Pan.

      Hook continued to hold the girl, occupying his mind with daydreams of what he'd do with her now that there was no escape for her.  Scenarios of abject cruelty entertained him as much as ones of kindness, and he weighed the satisfactions gained from crushing her spirit against those gained from making her into his protégé.  As Peter's tears subsided, Hook's smile faded as his eyes dimmed, daydreams becoming dreams in truth.

      He jerked awake some time later, cursing himself for dozing off.  But he was tired… exhausted, really, and he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to rest.  It was still relatively early in the day, but he knew a nap would only do him good.  He didn't understand what was wrong with him, but he remembered the surge of power that had flowed down his arm and into his hook.  He supposed that the power had come from somewhere within himself, drained out by the collar, and once more conceded that he was lucky to be alive.  If the worst he'd gotten out of triggering one of the collar's booby-traps was a need for sleep, he wasn't going to whine about it.

      Peter whimpered and gave a small jerk, and Hook realized with surprise that she was asleep.  He frowned, wondering how long he'd been dozing if the girl had had time to cry herself to sleep in his arms.  With more effort than he cared to admit, he managed to stand, his legs and arms weak and stiff.  He took the girl to his bed, too tired to carry her below to her cabin and unwilling to awaken her.  She needed a good rest to distance herself from the horrors she'd endured, and he preferred to be nearby when she awakened once more.  He pulled the blankets over her, taking a moment to consider her pale, drawn face.

      "Be a good girl, Kitten," Hook warned softly, running his hand lightly over her brow, "and you never need be unhappy or afraid.  I prefer your smiles to this careworn face.  You've suffered enough, and so long as you please me you'll never suffer again."  Satisfied that she was tucked in and resting as well as he could make her, Hook settled into a comfortable chair, propped his feet on a footstool, and promptly went to sleep.

      Nibs finished his story at long last and took a small sip of water.  He met the gazes of his audience, waiting to see if they had any more questions for him.  They shouldn’t – they’d interrupted him without mercy throughout his recitation of his visit with Peter, asking questions that ranged from the color of Peter’s dress (and if she was pretty) to more serious issues of whether they could rescue Peter and if Nibs thought Billy would help.  But no one said anything for a long while, and more than a few of the boys were biting back tears.  No one’s got any ideas either, Nibs thought with dismay.  He’d hoped that at least one of them would have seen a way to bring Peter home.

      “I’ll help you get some things together for Peter,” Wendy said at last, setting Michael down and retrieving a sack from its peg on the wall.  “We won’t send too much right now, just the things she wanted, plus some things to make her comfortable and let her know we love her.  That way she doesn’t have to carry so much back when we find a way to free her.”

      “Do you really think we will?” Curly asked hopefully.

      “I miss Peter,” Tootles sighed.  “We should bring her some fresh never-berries.  Everyone knows Mr. Cookson can’t cook.”

      The other Lost Boys shuddered.  A few of them had been prisoners long enough to have been given Cookson’s meals and all of them had had the misfortune to smell it.  Wendy was the only one who’d been a captive long enough to actually have to eat it. 

      “Maybe later,” the girl said, gathering Peter’s things.  She removed her friend’s necklace from the peg by Tink’s house and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment before dropping it in the bag.  “John?  Can Peter have the pictures you drew of us?  I think she’d like that.”  The boy nodded and handed his sister the small book he’d used for his artwork.  Wendy flipped through the pages, smiling softly at some of the portraits and removing a few pictures of Peter before adding it to the collection in the bag.  The pictures of Peter were hung on the wall by Tink’s house, and the girl continued to put things in the bag.  The boys helped, coming to her with odds and ends, some of which ended up in the bag. 

      When she was done, Nibs took the bag and looked around, making sure he had everything Peter had asked for.  Once he was reassured, he turned to the collection of children staring at him mournfully and contemplated if he should take any of them with him or go alone.  It would do them good to see for themselves that Peter was safe… especially Wendy.  Wendy had been fretful and depressed ever since Hook had left her ashore, and the girl seemed convinced that she’d failed Peter in some unforgivable way.  I’ll take Wendy for sure, and one other boy… any more than that and Hook might think we’re on a raid.

      He was just opening his mouth to say so when a strange noise arose in the room.  Nibs spun around, seeking its source as he drew his dagger, and froze.  There, standing not three steps away, was their missing friend.  “Slightly?” Nibs gasped, oblivious to the other boys’ murmurs of surprise.

      Slightly nodded slowly, managing a weak smile for his friends.  “Hey, cullies.  Miss me?”  He was tired, dead tired, but he wanted to speak to his friends before he went back to sleep.  He’d been too worried for them for too long, and he needed to know that everyone was okay.

      “Where have you been?  How’d you get home?  Did they hurt you?” Wendy asked as she took a step towards him, worry evident in her expression. 

      “I slightly failed the tests,” the blonde answered, trying not to shudder at the memory of his ordeal.  “Ok, so I failed it more than slightly.  I woke up this morning, the Queen said I’d been asleep for a long time.  I was supposed to stay longer, to make sure I was better, but something awful happened and they sent me home.”

      “Something awful?” Nibs asked, thinking of Peter and the missing Tinker Bell. 

      Slightly nodded and instantly regretted it as a wave of dizziness assailed him.  He’d felt great when he woke this morning, but he got tired quickly.  He’d taken a nap since then and was still tired.  Healer Peony had warned him that he’d be like this, that he’d have to rest a lot, but he didn’t want his friends to see him weak.  He didn’t want to worry them.  “Something happened to King Oberon.  I saw him when they brought him back, he looked pretty bad.  All the healers are tending to him and Gloriana’s worried, so they didn’t have time to deal with me.  They sent me home, said the Watchers here could keep an eye on me.”

      “Oberon’s sick?” Wendy said, her normally sweet and caring voice heavy with malice.  “Serves him right!  He’s an..an… ass!”  Her cheeks instantly went red, having uttered her first bad word, but she refused to apologize for it.  Besides, she thought firmly, Tink says it all the time.  The younger boys looked at her in wonder, and not without a little fear.  Only grown-ups were allowed to curse. 

      Slightly chuckled and turned towards the bed, determined to lie down for a little while.  “Yeah, he’s more than a slight ass,” the boy mumbled.  “He’s the one that hurt Peter and took us away, and he’s the one…”  The room twisted in a way that made the boy double over with vertigo, and he saw the floor rushing up to meet his forehead.  He winced in anticipation, but unexpected arms wrapped around his waist to halt his fall, and he felt himself turned over to lie across someone’s lap.  He looked up with a mixture of horror and relief to see that Nibs was the one that caught him – horror at showing weakness and needing help, relief that Nibs cared and would always be there for him, regardless.  It was nice to be loved. 

      “Are you sick?” Nibs asked, laying his hand across Slightly’s forehead, trying to detect a temperature.  The boy felt normal, and Nibs frowned even more; a fever would explain Slightly’s condition, the lack of one meant something more serious might be wrong. 

      “I’m just slightly tired, Nibs,” Slightly answered, yawning.  “I’m better, but they told me to get lots of sleep… no flying and no adventures.”  He blinked up at his friend, smiling faintly.  “I guess you’re in charge?  Peter would make fun of me for being tired… call me a baby.  I don’t wanna be a baby, but I don’t feel so good…”

      “You’re not a baby,” Nibs reassured the boy, glancing up at Wendy worriedly.  “And you’re right, I am in charge, and I order you to stay in bed until you’re better.  No flying either, I’ll carry you if we gotta go somewhere.”

      “Thanks,” Slightly mumbled, feeling oddly comfortable.  Nibs was warm - he liked warm - so he snuggled closer to his friend, lying his head against Nibs’s chest.  “Healer… visit me tomorrow… some medicine and stuff… just wanna sleep…” his eyes drifted shut while he spoke, his breath evening out.  “You smell nice…”

      “Go to sleep, Slightly,” Nibs murmured, holding the boy and staring at Wendy.  “We’ve got you, you’re home so just rest.”

      “Do you want to put him in bed?” Wendy asked, but Nibs just shook his head.  The girl nodded in reply.  She pulled a blanket off the bed and draped it over Slightly, tucking it around him carefully.  She placed a small kiss atop his forehead, satisfying herself that her boy didn’t have a fever, and rose to begin making soup.  A few mumbled requests sent the other boys scurrying to gather food, firewood and water, leaving her alone in the underground house with Nibs and Slightly.  She hummed as she worked, finding solace in doing something motherly and being useful.

      Nibs held Slightly until he was sure the boy was fast asleep, then lifted his friend and gently deposited him in the bed.  He sat beside him for awhile, watching the boy sleep and listening to Wendy as she hummed.  He had no intention to go see Peter now – he knew the girl was safe for the moment, and she’d get along fine for a few more hours without her things.  He wasn’t budging until Slightly woke again and reassured them that he was going to be alright.  He owed it to Peter to be able to say honestly that their friend was safe at home and that the fairies hadn’t hurt him terribly.  They hurt Peter and Billy, and now Slightly.  I hope they haven’t hurt Tinker Bell, too.  Maybe they’ll bring Tink home soon.  Tink would definitely know how to help Peter.   I bet she could take the collar off and bring Peter home, and everything will go back to normal again.

      Even as he tried to hope, a dark voice inside laughed, knowing that his hopes were foolish.  Peter was lost to them and it was all the fairy King’s fault.  Nibs turned his hope to darker dreams, wishing fervently that the king was indeed suffering some great tragedy.  It would be only fair.  Nibs hoped the pixie would die and thus release Peter from her terrible fate.  I hate them, I hate the fairies.  They were supposed to protect us, and look what they’ve done!  If they hurt Peter again, I’ll kill them ALL!