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In the swirl of passion	By : Lywhn Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 35043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Chapter 21 – Peter’s Plot

Sky and the other pirate laid their captain carefully on his bed, after Wendy had shoved the blankets and the pillows away to prevent them from a soaking. With trembling fingers, she opened Hook’s weapon-sash, pulled it and the sword away, and unbuttoned the remaining buttons of his torn waistcoat. “Mr. Sky? Please help me,” she said quietly, and undressed James with the help of the older man.
Neither the waistcoat nor the shirt was salvageable, so she simply threw them to the floor. The coat could be repaired, as well as the breeches. But his clothes were the last things she was concerned about. Her gaze traveled over the welts from the lash, criss-crossing his chest and belly, and finally up to his right shoulder, where blood oozed steadily from under the leather-pad. The salty seawater had kept it bleeding. It was fortunate that he was still unconscious, unaware of the salt in his open wounds.
“Mr. Sky? Please fetch fresh water and bandages. We have to clean his wounds.” The pirate nodded and went away, while Wendy undid the harness. “Sir?” she addressed the Oriental, who looked momentarily surprised by her politeness. “Would you please be so kind and see that some fresh water is heated? I need it as well.” The man, who couldn’t remember the last time he had been called ‘Sir’, bowed formally to the girl and left the cabin to fulfill her wish without hesitation – too bewildered to think that his behavior really didn’t fit a pirate.
Finally alone with James, she let the wooden cuff fall to the floor, freeing his right arm. She hadn’t let anyone see the old injury, knowing exactly how much James loathed anyone looking upon it.
Her glance roamed over him. He was so pale, almost ashen, and his lips were blue. His abused body looked bad, and the stab wound in his shoulder still bled. She fetched one of the blankets and spread it over him to warm him. Her gaze wandered for a moment to the stove in the corner of the cabin, made of cast iron. Normally, it was too warm in Neverland to need it – except when Peter was away, and ice and snow covered the island – but this night was cool and James was more than cold. As soon as one of the both men came back, she would be sure that the oven was lit.
She heard a soft croak and whirled around – only to see the both parrots, still caged and both looked very scared, nestled close together. “Don’t be afraid,” the girl murmured. “Everything will be all right!” Who was she trying to fool? Just now, everything stood at the edge of an abyss. There was no proof that any of them would survive the next several minutes. She heard the Smee’s loud shouts outside, and several other pirates, and her heartbeat quickened. Of course, she knew that the real danger wasn’t over. She knew enough about Blackbeard to realize that this man always had a trick up his sleeve. It wasn’t for nothing that he had been one of the most successful pirates of the second ‘golden age’ of piracy. It was possible that nothing she had done during the last hours had been of any earthly use, and James, his men, her friends and she would find death after all.
Wendy’s attention was drawn back to the man, and she sat down beside his motionless form, lifting one hand to stroke his cold cheek. Once again, she felt the burning behind her eyes. She was exhausted, but too keyed up to really feet it. Of course, she had known that he could be hurt -- not only now, in this particular case, but during his entire career as well. Piracy paid well, much more being a simple seaman on a merchant or a navy vessel. A cabin boy on a pirate-ship earned more than a lieutenant in the navy. But it was more dangerous as well. Most pirates were young, because most of them didn’t live long enough to grow old. How did the saying go? “There are old pirates and bold pirates, but no old bold pirates.”
But to see the result of this danger was hard; especially when it had hit her James this time – the man she loved! His injuries hurt her as deeply as a knife, and she would have gladly taken his pain to help him. Wiping away several new tears she gave in to the urge to be near him, bent down, and softly kissed his lips, stroking his cheek and temple. “I love you!” she whispered close to his mouth, tasting the salt on his skin. Sadly she thought that he might never hear it aloud from her, if they all died before he regained consciousness.
She looked at his long, dark eyelashes contrasting sharply against his pale skin, his high cheekbones and forehead, his strong chin and over his soft lips, which had brought her so much bliss. Her feelings of tenderness and rising despair squeezed her heart while she kissed him again. “I love you, James Hook!”
She heard someone at the door and sat up quickly. It was again Sky who entered the cabin, carrying the required items. “Mr. Skye? Could you please light the oven? The captain needs to get warm.”
The man nodded. “Of course, Miss Wendy,” he returned gruffly, and offered her the bowl and the bandages. With a soft “Thank you!” she took the implements and started to wash away the salt from Hook’s skin. Skye assisted her after he got the fire going in the Franklin stove. From outside, new shouts sounded while the ship seemed to change course, and Wendy exchanged a fearful look with Skye. “What…?”
The man smiled grimly. “Your little friend has a plot to turn the rudder one last time. But if he fails, we all will die! And he had to do it quickly. T’e Revenge is damn close now!”
“Peter!” Wendy murmured, her eyes widening. She had completely forgotten about him. “Is he all right?”
Sky shrugged his shoulders. “As Cecco and Mullins were wit’ him in t’e water to get t’e cap’n, he was. Several of t’e sirens were wit’ him. Had given t’e cap’n and him breat’ under water and are helping ‘im now again!” He shook his grey head, while he supported Hook’s shoulders, so that Wendy could wash him more easily. The girl lowered her head for just a moment. Peter had saved James and was now trying to save them all. Peter, that careless, selfish, wonderful boy … And she hadn’t thought about him! A fleeting feeling of guilt swept past her, but she knew it was useless. She had to wait until Peter was back – if he really could manage to implement his plan and – above all – stay alive.

Mullins swam beside Peter Pan through the black, cold sea. The darkness was only broken by the glimmer of the flames of the sloop and by the dim glistening of the tiny fairy, who clung to the boy’s clothes. He felt the cool, strong hand of one of the mermaids pulling him forward with incredible speed. He was glad he wasn’t alone with the water-creature. He wasn’t only terribly superstitious, he also knew exactly what kind of dangers a siren represented for a normal, mortal man. Of course, he didn’t like to depend on Pan either, whose presence was his only safety with these creatures, but he had no other choice, and nothing else to lose. If he didn’t sabotage the Revenge, then Blackbeard would ram the Jolly Roger and both ships would sink – whereby he would not only lose his home, but his life as well.
He felt the growing need for air, and a second later two cold smooth lips were pressed on his and he could breathe again. He did himself a favor and didn’t ask how this was possible. Some things were better left unasked!
Peter swam beside him, feeling Tinker Bell’s tiny hands clinging to his locks. As if from nowhere, a mermaid emerged before him, exchanged a look with her ‘sister’ dragging the boy behind her – and giggling, gave him a quick kiss. Peter grinned back. That was all right, the thimbles of the mermaids were much colder and not a bit as sweet as the one Wendy gave him once, but nevertheless they felt good. He heard Tink saying something rude and he raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t his fault that almost all the female inhabitants of Neverland liked him so much!
The glow of the fire was now very close, and the mermaids motioned to the boy and the pirate, then dragged them deeper down. Above them, the keel of the Revenge cut through the water, and they could hear the dull voices of Blackbeard’s men. Now Peter knew why the mermaids knew everything that happened on the Jolly Roger – additionally, their hearing was much more attuned to underwater noises than his.
Mullins looked at Peter and then at the mermaids. He also realized where Peter got his infallible information on the events on the ship. The water-creatures spied for him! Why they hadn’t told the boy about his friend being the lover of his greatest enemy was beyond him. But it decided it wasn’t his place to tell him about it!
The mermaids drew them even deeper and Peter felt the pressure increasing. But it didn’t last long before they were pulled back towards the surface and as he broke through it, his watery escort quickly clasped her hand over is mouth, so that his gasp wouldn’t give him away. Another mermaid did the same with Mullins, whose eyes nearly came out of his head before he signaled her that he had understood. The creature released his mouth, and smiled at him in a way that made him nervous. “T… t’ank ye, m’ dear!” he whispered hoarsely and carefully cleared his throat. The mermaid stroked over his face and beard and cocked her strange, but beautiful head.
Peter shook his head – grown-ups! – winked at the mermaid beside him who released him, and poked the carpenter none too softly. “Stop flirting and go trim the Revenge’s wings!” he grinned.
Mullins tossed him a skeptical glance. “What do ye know about flirting, Pan?” he asked, and swam with mighty strokes around the sloop’s stern and took hold of the huge rudder as it swept by. Chuckling, Peter followed him, and heard the buccaneer whispering: “Push me up!” Before he could help him, a mermaid was in front of him and did as Mullins had asked. The carpenter felt two strong, slim hands at his backside, and found himself on the rudder a moment later. He knew that Pan was strong, but this couldn’t have been the boy. He looked back saw ‘his’ mermaid, who smiled at him again, easily keeping up to the wooden vessel. He felt his cheeks turn pink. Stifling a curse – he was a mighty pirate and NOT a school-boy! – he looked for Peter, who was also pulling himself upwards. Making a face, Mullins offered him his hand, which the boy took without hesitation. Together they climbed up the rudder-anchorage, steadying themselves on the handles by the helm.
For a long moment, pirate and boy forgot that they were enemies, and grinned at each other. They had made it! – now came the hard part. Mullins bent forward and examined the rudder mechanism from above, and tested several bolts and gears.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, getting nervous.
“T’is is a complete new kind of gimbal. T’e Revenge must be really younger t’an t’e Jolly Roger.”
“Can you still hobble her?”
The pirate nodded. “Sure! I only need a little time.”
“Exactly what we don’t have!” Peter retorted.
One of the mermaids started to click loudly, and Peter lifted into the air, peering around the stern. He bit his lips. The Revenge was dangerously near to the Jolly Roger – he guessed not more than 300 or 400 feet – and returned to Mullins. “Hurry! We’re almost there!”
Mullins nodded and with a mighty effort and a fearsome grimace, he pulled at a bolt. “I can’t get t’is damn t’ing loose! Otherwise I could reach the rudder-chain and could unhook it!” he panted, face red from the effort. Peter moved beside him and groped for the bolt as well. Even Tink tried to help.
With a loud bang, the bolt released, and Mullins almost lost balance. If it hadn’t been for Peter’s quick arm around his wrist, the carpenter would have fallen backwards into the water. Cursing, Mullin regained his balance, growled a “T’anks, mate!” and looked into the device again. Before him hung the rudder-chain. Grinning he reached for it, and started to pull at it, and realized that it still was secured. Swearing under his breath he nodded at Peter: “Help me! I need a t’ird hand!”
The boy pressed himself beside Robert at the ship’s wall, and shoved his hand inside of the device, next to Mullins’ fingers. “Do ye feel t’e toot’ in t’e chain?” the carpenter whispered and Peter nodded. “It holds t’e chain in place. Push it down and I can pull t’e chain up!”
“Aye!” the boy confirmed.
“On three! One, two and… THREE!”
The boy pushed with all his strength, and felt the tooth swing down, freeing the chain. A rumble and rattle was heard, and together, both allies pulled the rudder-chain bit by bit out of its channel, finally rendering the helm useless.
Seconds after Mullins had loosened the bolt, Tinker Bell had flown upwards. Blackbeard and his pirates had to be deaf not to hear the noise! She peaked over the rail and, alarmed, flew back, ringing shrilly at Peter. The boy looked up. “Tink! Be quiet!” he hissed. “Or they will hear us!” But the answer of his fairy-friend got his attention. “The crew heard us!” he gasped to Mullins.
The carpenter uttered an entirely new malediction, tore the chain completely out with almost inhuman strength, and let its end fall into the water. The same moment they heard angry shouts from above, and as Peter lifted his head, he saw several faces bending over the rail of the top-deck. One of them belonged to Jack Richards, who recognized him immediately. “T’is is t’e damn boy! Kill ‘im now!”
Several of the buccaneers aimed their muskets and pistols at him and Mullins. Peter reacted without thought. “Jump!” he called, hauling a scared Robert down with him into the sea. Bullets flew through the air, striking the water near them when they surfaced for breath.
In the meantime Tink was quite busy. In shrill irritation, she soared up to the brutes who had dared to fire at her beloved Peter and raced between them, pulling a pistol out of a hand here, yanking on their beards and even managing to shove several pirates overboard.
“KILL HIM!” roared Blackbeard’s voice from the bow. “A hundred gold pieces for the man who burns a bullet into the pelt of that cursed tyke!” The little fairy scudded towards him and shuddered as she saw his appearance. The wound on his forehead was still bleeding and his face glimmered red like the devil. Blood was even caked in the remains of his long beard, and his gaze was the singular intent of his insanity: destruction. His injured shoulder bled more than his forehead, and his breath was heavy, but nevertheless he stood unfaltering on the bow and barked orders for killing all the crew and passengers aboard the Jolly Roger.
With a wild cry, Tink sprang at him and shone a brilliant light in his eyes to blind him. But Blackbeard had learned from her encounter with his first officer, and quickly turned his head, while he aimed a wild blow at the tiny creature who had irritated him from the beginning. Helpless, Tink plummeted away and fell into the sea.
Stunned, she tried to swim; her head ringing like a giant kettle drum. Still not recovered from his first attack a day ago, she felt dizzy again, and the world faded around her. With her last thought, she tried to call for Peter, and realized too late that she had spent all her energy on confounding the pirate.
Suddenly, a familiar, cool hand closed around her and then the flighty kiss of a mermaid touched her. Exhausted, she opened her eyes and saw the eternal boy in front of her, who was again drawn by the water-creatures through the water. Peter held her in his free hand. Tink sighed. It seemed that they both really couldn’t get along without the other one.
One more time, the boy and Mullins were forced to surface and almost instantly, Teach’s crew started to fire at them. Bullets struck all around them, and Robert cursed while the mermaids clicked and squeaked, shocked, and Peter grumbled. Blackbeard frowned after the man and the boy, and then his attention was drawn to the silhouettes around them.
For a moment his eyes widened, as he recognized their shapes – half fish, half woman. So the old legends were true. There were MERMAIDS! And they were helping this damn boy!
He found the wet golden shock of hair below in the dark sea, and he dragged one of his pistols out, aiming it with deliberation at the boy. “No!” he whispered. “You’ll not escape me!” He fired, and saw with great satisfaction how the boy reared up before the waves closed over him. “Rot at the bottom, you little pest! And now it’s the turn of Jas and his little wench!”
Mullins heard Peter’s outcry and looked back. In the dim glow, he just could see how the boy stared at him with a shocked expression, then disappeared under water. Robert cursed anew. “Pan? Come on!” he called, dragging hard at the mermaid’s hand to stop her. Two of them started to jump and to click, and dove like dolphins where the boy had gone under.
Suddenly a cold wind swept over the sea. Low thunder was heard and Mullins paled. He knew exactly what that meant. Neverland was reacting to Peter Pan’s injury. Or death? Robert hoped that this was not the case. Damn! He never thought that he’d one day worry about the boy.
He felt another tug as his finned escort headed toward the Jolly Roger. A new round of bullets flew about him, and he took a deep breath, submerging next to the siren. She held his hand, kissed him again and dove under the Jolly Roger to the other side of the mighty gallon, providing cover for him. Robert puffed and blew. “Had enough o’ this damn salt-water!” he groused and spit out, while he looked about him, but saw no sign of the boy.
His escort broke the surface next to him and looked at him with a strange expression. “Where is Pan?” he asked, out of breath. The mermaid cocked her head again, watched him very closely and -- finally -- smiled. Beside her, two more emerged, a motionless boy between them and a hysterically sobbing fairy.
Peter was unconscious, and blood ran from a wound on his head. Mullins reached for him and pulled the boy to himself while he tread water. “Pan?” he asked, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive,” he murmured and examined the injury. “T’e bullet has only grazed him!” He shook his head. “Boy, you really are a golden child!”
Tink pressed her tiny fists on her mouth and sniffled again – half from relief, half from fear. He turned to the siren as he felt the first drops of rain. “Help me to pull him on my shoulders, so t’at I can climb wit’ him on board!”
The mermaid stretched her webbed fingers out and touched Peter’s, then his cheek; her hard, long nails scratching him, the webbing was almost warm. Robert cleared his throat. “I’m honored, me beauty, but if you and your sisters really like t’is boy so much, t’en let me take him on board, so t’at someone can care fer him!”
The siren sighed almost humanly, and helped him to hoist Peter around his shoulders. He used his belt to bind Peter’s right arm and right leg in front of him. In this manner, the boy rode to the deck, and Mullins had both hands free to climb the ladder.
Before he left the water, he hesitated a moment and pursed his lips. “Why not?” he murmured, bent down to the mermaid and kissed her quickly. The siren jerked back and looked with wide eyes at him. Robert grinned. “’Till t’e next time, beauty, and don’t forget me!” Then he started up the Jacob’s ladder as the rain began and the ship abruptly changed its course and the thunder of cannons roared through the air.

As the Revenge was less than forty fathoms away from the Jolly Roger, Hook’s crew and the Lost Boys stood ready to fight at the rail. None of the pirates tried to hinder them. Should Blackbeard be successful and collide with them, then every hand was needed, as small as it might be. And every crew-member of the Jolly Roger knew personally how well each boy could fight.
Smee drew his cutlass and mounted the bridge to the balustrade. He had taken command of the Jolly Roger.. “Steady, brutes!” he called. “Let them come!” Minutes before, Blackbeard’s men had shot at someone in the water between the ships, and some of the galleon’s crew had told him that it had been Pan and Mullins. Then both had disappeared under water, pulled by the mermaids and hadn’t surfaced again. Smee knew that the sirens held them in cover, which was wise. But he didn’t know if they had been successful. He could only hope – and pray -- that the boy’s plan had worked. He could see Blackbeard clearly by now – the burnt beard, the blood drenched face, the bloody shoulder and the cutlass in his right and a pistol in his left hand – an allegory of death and destruction.
Suddenly life came into Smee. “Mason, Cecco, NOW!” he barked down to the deck, then he whirled around to Jukes. “Billy, come about!” Jukes turned the mighty double-wheel to the port side with all his strength, while a loud rumble and jarring from the other side of the ship reported the cannon-hatches were opening. The Jolly Roger moved quickly for ship of her size and her additional freight, and dodged the approaching bow of the Revenge.
Smee lifted the spyglass to his eyes and watched Blackbeard very carefully. Teach immediately discerned what Hook’s crew tried to do, and whirled around to his helmsman, Israel Hands. “Israel, adjust course! Adjust course and ram that damn ship!” he screamed loud enough and close enough to be heard on board of the Jolly Roger.
Smee held his breath – now they all would see if the little hellion and Mullins had been successful – and bent over the balustrade. “Mason? All clear?”
“Aye!” came the answer from the upper and lower cannon-deck and the old Irishman felt the jolt of energy shooting through his body. “FIRE!”
The echo of twenty cannons thundered over the waves and broke on the walls of Neverland’s mountains. Almost every ball hit its target. The mainmast of the Revenge broke down. Several shots brought part of the rigging down, others destroyed the most of guns of the Revenge, which were useless anyway. Smee smiled grimly. “Now he has to pay t’e price for ordering ‘em to empty the sloop and sink it!” he growled and Jukes laughed.
“He’s a victim of his own greed!”

The Revenge drove along them towards the open sea, unable to change course. Smee and Jukes exchanged a look. “Congratulations, Pan and Mullins!” the old Irishman grumbled. “Ye’ve done a fine job!” Blackbeard’s clamorous shouting was almost as loud as the cannon-fire before. New fires were born on the Revenge, and shouts for help sounded over the water.
“Should we make the dinghies ready?” Jukes asked and Smee shrugged his shoulders.
“We’re pirates, not barbarians. O’ course we’ll search for survivors – even if the captain will make ‘em walk the plank. But wait until the sloop is out of range. I don’t want any surprises from these maniacs, like opening fire with pistols.” He took a deep breath. “And above all, we have to search for Mullins and the boy.” He looked toward the sky, from where rain now sheeted down. “I don’t like this!” he murmured. “Something is wrong with Pan, otherwise the weather wouldn’t be this bad!”
The crewmembers down on the main-deck of the Jolly Roger embraced each other, congratulated themselves, and cheered. Even the Lost Boys and two brothers found themselves in the embrace of one pirate or another, before they all turned and waved after the departing ship.
“Good riddance!” “A bit too warm fer ye?” “T’anks for the provisions!” “And t’e rum!” “And the powder and bullets!” “So many presents wouldn’t have been necessary!” “Now we can even decorate the wardroom!” “Blackbeard, from now on you should be called Short-Beard!” “Or Slow-Match-Jellyfish!” It was impossible to discern who called louder or more cheerfully – the boys or the pirates, both groups gloating in relief at the disappearing Revenge.
Smee couldn’t help himself, but laughed as well, and Jukes chuckled: “T’is was excellent, Mr. Smee! T’e cap’n will be proud of ye! Ye really have acted in his place”
The boatswain declined. “Only a trick I’ve learned from him! Ye don’t know all the clever ideas he has sometimes!” Jukes beamed. He suddenly remembered that Smee had accompanied the captain from the beginning, while he had joined the crew later.
“Mr. Smee!” came a voice both men knew very well. They followed the sound through the rain to the portside of the main-deck, where they saw a dripping figure climbing on deck.
“There come our heroes!” Jukes announced with raised voice. “It’s alright, Robert. We’re all here!” Mullins stumbled forwards, holding Peter’s small form on his shoulder.
“Where’s the little greenhorn?” Smee called, not recognizing the boy on the carpenter’s shoulders because of the heavy rain.
“Here!” Robert answered, now surrounded by his comrades and the boys who left the rail and run towards him.
Slightly pushed through the lines, John on his heels. “What’s wrong with Peter?” he asked shocked, seeing the motionless form of his leader.
Mullins went to his knees, breathless from the climb, opened the belt and let the boy carefully slide onto the deck. “Blackbeard!” he said. “He shot him!”
Several of the Lost Boys knelt beside their leader before Smee shooed them away to have a better look at Peter, only Slightly and Tinker Bell remained. Quickly he evaluated the eternal boy. “T’e bullet only grazed ‘im,” he said, coming to the same conclusion as Mullins. He looked up at the boys surrounding him and recognized their fear and worry. They might be nervy little troublemakers who all needed a good spanking, but they felt responsibility for each other – and a deep friendship. He had to give them that. “Don’t be afraid!” he tried to reassure them, to his own surprise. “He’ll have a hell of headache, and have to stay in bed a day or two. Could even get a fever as well, but the injury isn’t dangerous. Nothing important was hit.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, but a general sigh ran through the boys – and not only from them. Of course the buccaneers knew that they all owed their lives to Peter Pan. “Mason?” called Smee and the pudgy gunner stepped to him.
“Aye, Sir?”
“Carry the boy to my quarters and lay him on my bed. I think he’ll be there more comfortable there than the surgeon’s quarters. After all, he saved our all our skins!”
Mason nodded, bent down and lifted the cold, small form in his arms. He was on his way to the quarter-deck, accompanied by the fairy and the whole troop of boys when the old Irishman held the children back. “Avast ye!” The boys turned around at the order to halt, full of expectation. Only Tink continued to follow Mason. “M’ quarters ain’t big enough to hold all of you!” the boatswain said firmly. “And by the way, you’re wounded and dirty. So stay here and we’ll show you where you can nurse your scratches and maybe can find some sleep.”
Nervous and relieved, the boys exchanged looks, until Slightly rose to speak. “Thank you, Mr. Smee. We really appreciate your offer because we don’t want to leave without our friend and need to look after our injuries. Can offer you my help in return?”
Smee lifted one brow. “Your help?”
The boy nodded. “Aye! I want to be a doctor and I’ve already started as a physician’s assistant, and I know first aid. Many of your comrades are wounded. Perhaps I can give you a hand.”
The Irishman examined the Lost Boys’ second in command very closely, but saw nothing other than serious-minded earnestness. The boy meant every word. “A doctor, eh?” he grumbled and finally shook his head. “Never thought that you’d want to learn somethin’ useful.”
Slightly shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve always cared for the injuries of my friends, and I like to help other ones.”
The boatswain nodded. “Alright! As I see it, there ain’t none of us who ain’t got a cut or wound or something else like it. Normally it’s only Bollard’s and my turn to take care of wounded comrades, but in this case, we need all hands!”
Slightly smiled. “My pleasure. And I think Wendy will help as well.”
Smee smiled. “If you can drag her away from the captain’s bed, then maybe you’re right.” He waved at the boys. “Come on, lads, I’ll show you were you can stay this night and--“ He looked at the skies as a thunderclap rolled through the air and a new flash cut through the darkness. Smee made a face “- and can try to get dry again!” More thunder growled through the night, and in the light of the next flash, Smee looked over to the quickly departing sloop, fires dying away in the rain.
The Revenge had no steering mechanism, and the clouds themselves seemed to solidify around her, blocking the little light it gave. “What the devil…?” Smee whispered and his comrades followed his gaze. They all could see the heavy clouds which hovered over the Revenge. Flashes lit up the night sea around her, while a dense fog started to built up. After a minute the sloop was completely surrounded by the fog, and when the lightning returned to the sky a short time later, there was no trace of the Revenge. She had simply vanished.
Shocked, the pirates and boys gazed about. No one could explain what had happened – and no one wanted to speak about it. They all knew that the miraculous powers of Neverland had shown up one more time.
Swallowing his nervousness, Smee waved the boys to come with him, and they obeyed without protest. They all were looking forward to a safe, dry room, and possibly a nap.
John’s thoughts were angry as he followed the boatswain alongside Nibs and Curly. Smee’s words had reminded him of what he had witnessed only a short time ago. And now Wendy was still with Hook in his quarters. Yes, the pirate-captain needed first aid, but the way Smee had spoken (that she had to be ‘dragged’ from the captain’s bed) only confirmed his suspicions about the relationship between his sister and Hook. She must have lost her mind to see this criminal as something other than a brutal killer! Yes, he might be an attractive man who represented the independence she craved, but – good Lord! – he was a fugitive, a malefactor, and even tried to KILL her! How could she worry about him? Hook was only using her to get to Peter – he had done it before. And even if he had said to her that he would let Peter go, John didn’t believe the captain. This could only be a plot to finally gain victory over his sworn enemy. And as soon as Hook had achieved this end, he would let her fall like a hot potato. There was no doubt about it.
John bit his lips. As soon as they were alone, he would speak with her, and try to talk some sense into her. She had to stop this coziness around Hook before the buccaneer demanded more from her than a kiss, which she had already given him on her own free will. Of course it hadn’t been the first kiss she had given him – John knew his sister too well. But he would take care that her strange soft spot for the captain didn’t end in a disaster!

As the Jolly Roger suddenly changed course, and the roaring of the cannons had echoed over Neverland, Wendy had known that the final battle had begun. The whole ship had shivered, and she could feel the heavy cannons recoil in their runners. Shouts rang through the air, accompanying the explosions, and out of pure instinct Wendy threw herself over Hook to protect him what ever would come. She felt the abrupt movements of the Jolly Roger and closed her eyes, holding James close to her. She expected to feel mighty concussion at any second when the Revenge rammed them, followed by the noises of blades and death-screams, but nothing like this came.
Instead, she heard cries of victory and jeering – from the pirates AND the boys. Sky, who had steadied himself at the captain’s desk, strode to the door, opened it and dared to see what happened outside. He only had to listen to his comrades for a moment before he turned back and beamed. “It’s alright, Miss Wendy. That damn wastrel has been sent to hell!” he laughed and Wendy sat up, feeling suddenly dizzy with relief.
They’d made it! They had won! They were safe! Looking down on Hook she smiled and touched his cold cheek. “The victory is ours, my captain!” she whispered and heard Sky chuckling. Blushing she threw him a glare and saw how amused the older pirate was.
He lifted both hands in surrender while he sniggered: “Don’t be angry, Miss. I know how ye feel, and are glad of it!”
Wendy smiled shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Sky.” Her gaze moved to Hook. “Help me to bandage his wounds?” Sky nodded. The girl had already washed out the cuts and the stab wound, and had started to brush them with iodine. It really was fortunate that the captain was still unconscious. The Oriental returned and brought the heated water where Wendy immersed several of the bandages which would lie directly over the wounds. They waited some minutes until the bandages had cooled a bit, then they began to apply them around the captain’s torso and shoulder. Then the thicker bandages followed.
In the meantime the Oriental – whose name Wendy didn’t know – told them about Peter and Mullins’ success, and how they defeated Blackbeard. Wendy was shocked as she heard about Peter’s injury, but the Oriental told her that the boy had been taken to Smee’s cabin and that the old boatswain was taking good care of him. The other boys had had scratches here and there, but nothing dangerous. So the girl decided that she first would take care of James and then – later – look in on the boys. The assortment of boys had often been bruised in their games, and were accustomed to treating themselves. And, by the way they, had Slightly, who was talented in vetting the other ones.
Finally the three were finished, and Wendy looked at James, whose torso reminded her of a mummy by now. She sighed, satisfied that she had done all in her power to help him. Her gaze wandered up to the both pirates. “Thank you for your help, gentlemen.”
The two men looked sheepish – no one had ever called them ‘gentlemen’ – at least Sky grumbled, “I t’ink, t’at is, yer welcome!”
The girl laughed gently. “Aye!” she confirmed and watched as the both men left the cabin. Sighing she bent over James and kissed his forehead. “All done, my love. Rest now. We’re safe,” she murmured. A low groan escaped his throat and quickly Wendy lifted her head and looked at him. She wanted so badly for him to open his beautiful eyes and speak with her. But, on the other hand, he would be in pain, and she didn’t want that.
Nature took the dilemma out of her hands, as Hook’s strong will kicked in. Wendy saw his eyelashes fluttering and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, then he blinked several times and moaned softly. She thought she would hear him calling her name and she touched his cheek. “I’m here, James,” she whispered and suddenly she looked directly in his forget-me-not-blue eyes.
“Wendy?” he croaked and started to cough.
“Yes, I’m here!” she said tenderly and stroked his forehead. “How do you feel?”
He tried a small smile, but it was more a grimace than anything else. “Like hell!” Hook swallowed, and felt as though someone were cutting his throat. He had trouble breathing – his lungs ached – while his chest and right shoulder burnt like he had been set on fire. Everything was hazy, and he could see Wendy’s face only in a blur. Behind his temples, a drum started beating and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and to find sleep again. But his slowly waking mind remembered something very important. “What’s of the ship? Has Blackbeard…?”
“Blackbeard is defeated!” Wendy answered. “He cannot harm us anymore!”
Relief washed through him, and he felt himself again drifting away – back into the warm darkness, where he could heal. With his last strength, he lifted his lids and glanced at his girl. “I love you,” he whispered.
Wendy felt tears dwelling up in her eyes, as she kissed him softly. “I love you, too!” she murmured and saw him falling asleep again – the shadow of a smile playing around his lips. The one thing James had wanted to hear were the warm, sweet words of his beloved girl whispered the words he yearned for; then he sank away into Morpheus’ waiting arms.
Wendy wiped her tears away. She was sure that he had heard her before sleep overtook him, and she felt relief and redemption in one. Finally she had said it aloud – and it felt good. Her gaze wandered around in the room, which was still in a chaotic state. The both parrots sat together in their cage, but seemed calm, looking expectantly at her. “Just sleep, and tomorrow you can fly around again,” she commanded. Of course, she could set them free now, but the birds were still shaken, and she could hear the thunderstorm that was over Neverland – certain proof that Peter wasn’t well.
Peter! Wendy knew she had other duties to fulfill – like looking after her brothers and Peter and offering her help as nurse – but she had reached her limit. As it sank into her that they truly were out of danger, she felt exhaustion falling on her like a lead-lined blanket. The last nerve-racking hours, full of terror and hope, the bloody events around her, and James and her revelation of their true feelings for each other were too much. She stood up one last time, dashing away tears of relief, went to the oven and put in several more pieces of wood into the fire. Then she slipped out of her boots, breeches and shirt, and tossed them on the chair where she had tossed her weapon-sash as well when she had started treat James’ wounds. Almost stumbling now, she fetched blankets, returned to the great bed, spread them over James, crept beneath them as well, and lay down beside her captain, wrapping one arm around his waist.
She wanted to curl around him, but she couldn’t because of his injuries. So she simply slid alongside him, buried her face in his hair and let her tears flow. It was good to cry and she simply couldn’t stop. Stroking again James’ unhurt left arm and kissing his shoulder and cheek, she let everything out that had afflicted her. The mere thought that she almost had lost him – and her brothers and friends as well – still tormented her. It was awhile before she could calm down. The rain pelted the windows and the wooden deck above her, and the steady sound hushed her gradually. The ship moved on the uneasy waves and the fire in the oven crackled quietly.
A cozy warmth traversed the cabin and drew her gently in. Her eyes burned as she watched him sleep, her lips were dry and she had to sniffle. She really needed a drink of water and a handkerchief, but she was far too comfortable now beside James – and too tired – to leave the bed. Relaxing just a moment, her eyes closed and finally she drifted away in a deep, dreamless sleep.

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion