<div style="text-align: center"><b>Hook</b><br/>
<i>The Path</i>​</div><br/>Was it rage? That searing heat that built in the pits of his stomach, a fire that burst up and spread like wildfire through skin and bones. Emotions ran high, his voice trailing in and out as thoughts curled and slammed back and forth in his mind.<br/><br/>“Blasted Lily…” He growled.<br/><br/>Not only had that blasted Tiger Lily been next to useless all of this time,<i>now </i>she dared insinuate that he’d been a blundering fool too. Had he not brought them here? Had he not found the way into this blasted realm and out of their own. He eyed the golden hook around his right hand, gold now tinted red with blood that dripped. “Blood… Wendy?” He snarled in disbelief.<br/><br/>Had his ship full of his men not landed and would it not provide a way back. If it wasn’t for Captain Hook, they would still be wandering the wild infested forest’s with those savages! His eyes shot open, a thought that hit, his own thoughts ebbing away as Lily’s voice hummed in a rhythmic sort of hue, as her fingers pulled and knitted that tear into nothingness once more. “Jolly Rogers.” He chuckled, a grin pulling his lips apart, a shine of pearly white teeth revealed in the darkness. A plan unfolded, a scheme, as always, his rage tempered into something moldable, something of use.<br/><br/>Tiger Lily’s song ended, more abruptly than he’d expected, but her voice carried on nonetheless, a command leaving her lips as she moved with a feline grace.<br/><br/><i>Come, Captain. we must hurry. </i><br/><br/>“Of course Tiger Lily,” Hook purred in return. “Lead the way.” A flourish was made, unseen to the savage as she didn’t even bother him a second glance.<br/><br/>But Hook considered himself lucky she hadn’t. For the plan that unfolded itself was sinister, it was perfect. It was so perfect that it pulled at his very expression, a sneer, crow’s feet that gathered at the corner of his eyes as he squinted towards Tiger Lily. A darkness in his gaze that would’ve had many of his crew jump with recognition, with fear. Hook snapped to attention and quickly held pace with the woman, his tone shifted, a honeyed layer stuck to his voice as he spoke, a coo, a swoon, a man willing to serve, or so he made it seem.<br/><br/>“Tell me Tiger Lily, what piece of Neverland have we forgotten, where are we headed?”<br/><br/>His eyes followed the road up ahead, all of it covered in a thick black substance, hard beneath the feet, a comfortable stride. One where your feet didn’t sink or lose grip, with no loose rocks or branches brought upon their path. Better yet, there was a path laid out infront of them, lights that showed the way, or so it seemed. Twisting away in the far distance, towards a crest where the sun now kissed the horizon. Perhaps it was happenchance, or perhaps it was fate, whichever it was Hook did not question either, but he felt it, up in the distance, along the path their feet marched. The Jolly Roger, his heart, his soul, it waited there too. It was their path back to the other side. The journey to their unknown destination had been long, so long, that it had pulled at every fibre of patience that Hook himself had possessed. The sun that once kissed the edges of the horizon up ahead had now risen up and above, the morning dew scattered beneath its heat, the clouds of mist scattered into nothingness. But what Hook had hated most of all? It had been spent in silence, it was not a thing Hook much enjoyed. For Silence brought a surreal sort of hypersensitivity, a sensitivity that allowed paranoia to take hold in his heart, for it to fester and grow. By the time they arrived before the great walled structure, a gate of iron surrounded by an everlasting iron fence holding the building within prisoner, Hook found himself restless, fidgety. His eyes snapped towards Tiger Lily as he eyed the gate.<br/><br/>“Now what?” He snarled. The honey that lingered before all but dripped away, the purr of a cat shifted into the bark of a restless dog.<br/><br/>He could feel the Jolly Roger however, it was close, up and over the cliff’s edge just beyond this building. It called, no it screamed at Hook to rejoin it, to step upon its deck once more. But he ignored its call… for now. First he would follow the savage, listen to her, see what they had missed, what was needed to make Neverland whole once more. Then and only then would he rejoin his crew.<br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<b>Pan</b><br/>
<i>Finding Neverland</i>​</div><br/>Crimson red, that was the color Pan had known Tinkerbell to be, it was the color she donned whenever he appeared, that or that lifeless grey, that same grey that burst from her chest now, extinguishing said color in an instant. It spread like paint, bursting through her skin and leaving Pan with that dry husk once more. Pan hummed gently, no matter, red or grey, whichever tint she took, as long as she helped him find Wendy, as long as she helped him keep Neverland. But then he saw a spark, it started within her eyes, from the corner of his gaze he saw a hue he’d never seen before. Peter had, for Peter had always been the lucky one, Peter, who now clawed against the shadows inside him, inside Pan. But he pushed Peter down, pushed him away. No, this time Pan would see. It was bright, from her eyes, to the very tips of her fingers it spread, swallowing that grey husk in a luminescent sparkle, a shade of yellow he’d only seen from Hook’s right hand in a flash.<br/><br/>“<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)">Gold</span>.” Pan grimaced.<br/><br/>Her wings quivered, gold leaping within her, it turned and twirled and expanded, extended and flowed, like riches untold, a treasure kept within the fairy herself.<br/><br/>“<i>Pan</i>!” Her voice chimed brightly.<br/><br/>It chimed with a warmth he had never heard, what’s more she had called<i>him</i>, not Peter, but Pan. Pan’s eyes shimmered now too, a murky layer that spread across his eyes and had to be blinked away furiously as he watched the fairy dive and turn before him. There was a violence to it, like a predator falling upon its prey as Pan’s shadows spread through the forest’s below them, his boys, now combing through Neverland to find Wendy Darling.<br/><br/><i>”Let’s find the Wendybird!</i>”<br/><br/>Pan grinned at that, felt his muscles grow rigid, felt them tighten as his heard boomed in his chest. Excitement! A hunt! Pan’s fingers tightened into balled fists, his bones and cartilage cracking beneath the pressure, his arms and legs spread out, reached out, like a starfish would among the watery depths, among the merfolk. Then, like all that energy had found a way out he pulled himself into a ball, his hands cupped around his lips, his lungs filled with a deep breath and Pan cawed, his voice carried out and away, between the forest’s, through the mountain pass, across the lakes and out into the sea his caw would be heard. It wasn’t like Peter’s, filled with joy and excitement, no, it was filled with something heavy and ominous, it was dark and deep, it vibrated and caused Neverland to shake under the crack of thunder that was Pan’s voice.<br/><br/>With that Pan was away, whizzing through the air, a trail of blackened shadow left in his wake as he spun and twisted up and around Tink. His eyes bright, his grin ever brighter, the boys had spread among Neverland, they would find Wendybird. But even if they did not, Tink and Pan surely would, the fairy had a drive he had never seen before, the brightened golden tint that held her making her seem more powerful than any shade of red ever had. Her own light breaking through the shadows of Pan, the dust giving shape to the remnants of themselves that they left as they accelerated forward. Pan threw a look over his shoulder as they pushed on and for a moment just watched, watched as black clouds pressed together, golden sparks spread across its insides, like veins within a shapeless body. But then it took shape, slowly but surely, the golden vein pulsing life into this monstrous form. Great wings exploded from within the cloud, shimmering a golden pearlescent, blasting down against the floor with such a force a gust of wind followed, propelling both Tink and Pan forward even faster.<br/><br/>“Beautiful.” Pan hummed<br/><br/>Tink’s fairy dust had honed into Pan’s intent, his need for something furious, something devasting, something capable of leaving death in its wake. It had given form to the smoke trail of residue, of the shadows he harbored within. Pan recognized the creature, one of the tiny wyrmlings that resided in large extensive packs in the mountain range beyond Crocodile Creek, but it’s size had increased a hundred fold. A massive lumbering form of what one could only be described as a creature of myth. A dragon, it’s shimmering scales replaced by billowing clouds that churned like a violent storm with each step. A heart of gold in its chest, it’s light bursting through those darkened clouds, pulsing in the same rhythm Tink pulsed before him. A dragon… Pan laughed as he darted towards Tink, as his hand found hers, fingers entwining, gold and the black that seethed from his own skin, a beautiful contrast.<br/><br/>“Let's shoot us a Wendybird.” Pan growled.<br/><br/>He smiled then, a smile laced with darkness, with an intent unbeknownst to Tinkerbell, one that might shatter the fairy eventually. But for now, for now the fairy was too obsessed, too focused on the task she believed would have Peter enveloped in her arms once more.<br/><br/><i>Back to the way things were, no more Wendy, just Tink, Tink and Peter.</i><br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<u><b>Peter</b></u><br/>
<i>Lost to Shadow</i>​</div><br/>Peter stood in that familiar box, shadows loomed, below him, above him, beside him. In every direction walls of darkness stood, solid, yet alive, flowing, like a strange conjuration of water and smoke as one. He had been here before, he had been here so many times. It was when Peter had lost all sense of himself, when a certain track of emotions were too overpowering. It made him feel like a child, thrust back into his room whilst his<i>other</i>half, Pan, cleaned up the mess. He hated it, hated it because he<i>knew</i>when he returned things would be different. They would be horrid, they always were, blood would stick to his hands, an unwashable filth that tangled between fingers, beneath fingernails. More often than not, it had been the blood of a stranger, of a pirate, a goon, a monster. But today Peter knew it would be the blood of the ones he had loved. Wendy? James? Tink? Tiger Lily? Hearts and souls of Neverland, people he had taken on so many adventures, people he had laughed with, danced with, sung with, done so many wonderful things with.<br/><br/>Peter blinked when a flash of gold caught his attention.<br/><br/>“Tink!” He yelled in disbelief.<br/><br/>Gold whizzed beyond that wall of shadow, its glow pressing through the darkness, there was a beauty to its steady pulse. It caused something to pull at Peter’s lips, a smile, even in this darkness her glow made him happy, made him smile. He approached the wall, wanting to be closer to her presence, to feel the warmth that glow often brought with it, to feel his heart pulse in that same beat. Peter hummed happily as his fingers traced against the shadowy clouds.<br/><br/>“Tink…. I’m sure everything will be alright with you leading the charge…” He whispered.<br/><br/>The room shook, like in reaction to his words, laughter, dark and deep echoing from every edge, from every corner. That golden sparkle took form before Peter’s eyes, deep inside that darkness he saw a centre point, a heart, from which a skeletal shape erupted, veins of gold lining what looked to be a body. All of the darkness shifted, like clouds being sucked into a whirlwind of a storm pulled towards that form. Within moments Peter saw him standing across from a figure, his height, his body, apart from its billowing form, almost identical. Peter knew in an instant who stood across from him, his eyes tracing that path of darkness stuck to his own feet.<br/><br/>“Pan.” Peter growled softly.<br/>“Peter!” Pan laughed in return “It seems that our little fairy friend has given me something you never could Peter!” Pan snarled.<br/><br/>Peter’s eyes narrowed, his muscles grew tense, his jaws working, grinding teeth as he stepped toward the shadowy form. He saw it now, a golden heart placed within his chest, veins of gold that echoed the tattoos Pan had placed across Peter’s body so many years ago.<br/><br/>“What have you done to Tink!” Peter cried.<br/>“Oh hush now Peter,” Pan hummed “Tinkerbell is perfectly fine, it is<b><i>you</i></b>who should be worried. For this Neverland doesn’t<i>need</i>a Peter Pan anymore more…. No… No, a Pan will do<i>just</i>fine.” Pan laughed.<br/><br/>Before Peter could answer there was a flash of gold in Pan’s eyes, Tink’s fairy dust held deep within those shadows brightened, Pan’s hand raised fingers curled like a vicious claw.<br/><br/>“Die…” Pan growled.<br/><br/>Shadows exploded from Pan’s hand, clouds that billowed forward and turned and shifted into an uncontrollable wave, a wave that smashed into Peter’s body, knocking his feet from under him. Peter trashed, struggled, fought with every ounce of strength his body possessed, kicking through the ever growing darkness that engulfed him, searching desperately for light, for a way out. But this was Pan’s domain, Peter’s cage when Pan took hold, and now Pan had found him disposable Pan had taken action. There was no escape. The darkness that pulled at Peter soon overpowered him, his fingers and toes kicking in desperation as a shrill cold invoked themselves, his muscles stiff, tired, exhausted. That same cold grew with hot with a fury when Peter finally attempted to take a breath, ice turned to fire in his lungs as what he had hoped would be a breath of air never came. Unseen tears in the darkness poured free from Peter’s eyes as he fought and fought. Peter did not want to die, all he wanted was an adventure, to laugh, to laugh and dance and cry. Memories flashed, that first flight, that first moment another Pan had taken Peter’s hand and dashed towards the stars. All the boys that passed through Neverland with Peter, all the people they had saved from Hook’s grasp, James, a true friend… Wendy, a teacher, a mother, a caretaker…. and Tinkerbell, his love in this life and all those that followed, a golden glow, happiness. Two golden eyes appeared before Peter’s murky gaze, a smile of golden teeth as he felt a hand tighten around his throat.<br/><br/>“Neverland does not need a<i>Peter</i>anymore.” He snarled. “Now…<i>Die</i>.”<br/><br/>Ice and flame faded. Light turned to darkness. Memories fell into nothingness. Weightless. Empty. Gone. Peter Pan and Neverland no more, only it’s heart remained, full of hatred, jealousy, resentment and darkness. A shadow of what Peter was and now, all that remained was....<br/><br/><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)">Pan</span></b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(247, 218, 100)">.</span><br/><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><br/>
<b>James</b><br/>
<u><i>Memories</i></u>​</div><br/><i>“I am okay.”</i><br/><br/>The words in itself were like a spell, those that followed a strengthening of said enchantment. James had felt anxious, stressed, his mind working frantically at all the “what if’s” and how to solve them. Wondering how much blood Wendy had lost, pondering at the water in her lungs, how much their physical warmth would actually push out that icy cold ocean water that had embedded itself in her muscle and skin. Yet that anxiousness faded with those words, and as it did James felt his shoulders loosen, like a rope that was pulled tight between his blades, a knot that tugged it up and around his skull suddenly cut. His breathing slowed. Jaws that were clenched so very tight relaxed, teeth and gums sending a pulse of pure relief through his muscles. She was okay, they would be okay.<br/><br/>But with that wash of relief, with the stress leaving his body, so did the adrenaline, the pure instinct that had kept him on his feet, kept him moving, kept them pushing forward. It faded too, and with it came a shadow, one that pulled James into a slumber so deep, so far away he couldn’t even remember falling asleep in the first place. For James awoke with a shock, his hands grasping for a warmth that was no longer there, his eyes burned by rays of the morning sun that broke through the umbrage above. His heart pounded, that adrenaline that had been no more reignited in an instant. A voice, Wendy’s voice, he had heard it call him, whisper to him in his slumber. He had felt something trace across his face, follow the lines of his face, a finger, a feather? His own fingers traced the ticklish path that had been left behind before he searched the forest around him.<br/><br/>“Wendy?” He mumbled, his throat raspy due to a sudden assault of cottonmouth.<br/><br/>But the words were lost, before him stood Wendy, her pale skin iridescent under that same lingering sun, her limbs thin and agile finding their way through the salt-stiffened clothing. Adrenaline subsided, warmth followed, embarrassment? A heat that poured through his chest and rose to his neck and cheeks as he realized he’d been staring at Wendy. Without a second glance he collected his own clothes, quickly getting dressed as he let that heat in his cheeks slowly subside. A stretch and a groan followed shortly after, his body complained with a vivid sting, reminding James’s calves, back and arms of the intense pressure they had been under. Wendy gasped, her attention suddenly shifting as she scrambled and backed away from the huge tree James had found to hide beneath, the roots big and lifted, providing the perfect little hollow. He followed her gaze as she spoke, her voice gentle, caressing, and then a question.<br/><br/><i>”Do you remember?”</i><br/><br/>James huffed softly, his eyes flicking back and forth, between Wendy, the tree, and nothing in particular, just the workings of his inner thoughts as he tried to make sense of it all. Was it memory? Did he remember? Or was it all some sort of illusion that was part of this place. No, it was more than an illusion. For James remembered those creatures vividly, the mermaids, their names, their laughter, their songs. A distant memory yes, but one of<i>his</i>memories nonetheless. Yet, he wasn’t completely convinced yet, or perhaps, wasn’t ready to admit it. A place of childhood memories, real? It felt almost absurd to James. As his mind worked he wandered aimlessly behind Wendy, disconnected from her presence for the first time since they had met. For there were other memories, memories of Wendy, memories of Peter Pan, memories of Hook and Tinkerbell. He blinked, were these storybook memories? He watched as Wendy found a latch, a movement and a hidden door that felt all too familiar swing open.<br/><br/>“There it is..” James repeated quietly, his body taking him to follow Wendy into the treehouse.<br/><br/>As they moved throughout the treehouse James listened, listened and watched, his eyes trailing Wendy’s movements. Wendy moved from one place to the next, her fingers trailing across walls and ledges, across tables and an invisible hammock. One that wasn’t there now, but most definitely had been. Her eyes met his, a bottled storm giving James a clarity, like staring into pools of memory himself. For those eyes stared back but with a younger face, Peter’s voice echoing Wendy’s as she spoke. He remembered, remembered the girl with those eyes of bottled storm, remembered smiling at her like he’d smiled at Wendy when they first met. He<i>knew</i>Wendy, knew her as the girl that walked beside Peter Pan, his<i>best friend</i>, Peter Pan. A sudden warmth traced over his cheek, a path drawn from eye to lip, salt pressing between his lips as he flicked the tear away and smiled again, a brighter smile than before.<br/><br/>“I remember Wendy… What a wonderful memory and what a cruel thing to forget.” James chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.<br/><br/><i>”Will you smile at me like that again James?”</i><br/><br/>James, not Mr. Dameron, not that “R” that rolled across her tongue, no James, a friend, one beloved of memories past. He remembered. Neverland. Peter Pan. Hook, Tinkerbell and Wendy. The girl he swore to protect, even then, even now. His mouth worked as he stepped closer to Wendy, fingers tracing across her cheeks lightly as his head cocked to one side. His smile fading slowly as his eyes found the bandaged wound across her neck. How many wounds did Wendy carry now? How badly had James Dameron truly failed in his promise.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry Wendy, I promised to protect you, even then, but I failed you then, lost you to a power I did not comprehend.” He hummed gently.<br/><br/>James looked around the hideaway, finding memory in every corner, faces of boys in different bunks. Peter’s laughter echoing against the hollowed out wood like an instrument. His caw bursting even louder. James sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes meeting Wendy’s once more as he pressed his forehead to hers.<br/><br/>“I will not fail you again,” He whispered “I promise.”<br/><br/>A caw, familiar to James, familiar to Wendy, yet darker, so much more sinister than he’d ever heard. The ground shuddered, wood snarled and cracked around them as it protested against the sudden force from outside. A gust of wind howled through the forest, trees shook under that pressure, the echoing caw faded. Then, through the little window infront of which Wendy had placed herself James saw it. A billowing black cloud that expanded, that swallowed itself over and over, folding and twisting, golden sparks blasting through it like an unstoppable thunder. Wings unfolded from within those clouds, what followed had him pull Wendy away from the window, had his arms gather her close. For a creature of myth and legends stepped from those clouds, a ferocious beast, all clouds and golden veins that kept it bound to Neverland.<br/><br/>“A dragon.” James whispered in disbelief. “We need to leave Wendy…. Now!” He announced.<br/><br/>His legs were already moving, his hands finding Wendy’s, tugging, pulling, like the alleyway’s in their own world he found himself pulling at Wendy, although this time James didn’t know where. A dragon, fire? They’d need water perhaps? He snarled as he pushed Wendy up the little makeshift footholes that had led them down into the tree, following close behind her.<br/><br/>“Back to the beach Wendy! We need water.” He shouted after her. “As soon as you get out, run! I’ll catch up, I swear!”