Chapter 1: Hook
Chapter Text
To become what you've been raised to hate is a cruel fate, but to become what everyone else hates is a far crueller one.
Hook stared into the ocean; it appeared to mock him the way it turned the exact shade of blue as his eyes.
"He's brought another. Well, a few others," Maera told him, the force of her tail slapping the side of the shop reverberating through the wooden hull.
"How many?" Hook forced himself to ask. There was always a new boy or two to bring aboard.
"Three."
"Fuck," Hook muttered, pushing away from the ship rail to run a hand through his sea-blown black hair. It was a choppy cut, done by his second-in-command, whose mother had been a hairdresser.
When he returned to the side, Maera hesitantly continued. "There's something you should know about them."
"How old?" He asked, not in the mood for bad news. He never was, but it was more tolerable sometimes.
"Six, eleven and fifteen, but listen-"
A hand instinctively covered his mouth in horror. "Six? That's too young, Maera, he's just a child."
"I know, but Hook, stop interrupting me for one fucking minute, please, so I can tell you the oldest he brought is a girl."
There was silence as Hook stared at Maera, trying to tell if she was playing a joke on him. Last he checked, it wasn't April Fool's Day, but it was hard to track the days like normal in Neverland.
"He never brings girls," Hook stated the obvious, causing Maera to roll her sapphire blue eyes.
"Well, obviously, he's changed his mind."
Hook shook his head, resisting the urge to grind his teeth together. He was trying to kick the habit after the dentist's son had told him it sucked for your teeth, but it was true what they said, old habits die hard. "No, something's going on. He'd never change it up just for fun; that's not how he works."
Turning away from the ocean, Hook faced his misfit crew. "Boys," he called out, grabbing their attention, sighing his next words. "Make for shore."
"Hook?" Maera swam after the ship as they moved toward the land.
"What?" Hook asked, resigned to the fact he was probably about to get a lecture.
There was a pause before Maera responded, "Just be careful."
"Always am," Hook replied quietly, turning and making his way to the captain's quarters.
He let out a deep breath once safely inside, away from the peering eyes of his crew. Aware he only had a few minutes before he had to board a rowboat and make the solitary trek to the island, he reached for the scabbard lying on the desk to tie onto his belt. For all his pirate talk, he'd never brought himself to pick up a cutlass, keeping with his classic knight's sword from the olden days. He didn't know why he still used it, maybe as a reminder that nothing good ever lasted.
Gathering his thoughts, Hook made his way to the rowboats as the ship slid to a stop, as close to the island as possible without risking damage. He settled into the boat, waving away a boy who offered to row for him.
Using the few minutes of rowing to consider what exactly his plan was, Hook stepped out onto the golden sand, waves lapping at his boots.
"PETER," he called out. "We need to talk."
"What about?"
Hook turned to where the voice had come from, met with Peter, dressed in his usual greens, leaning casually against a tree. Scanning the surrounding forest, Hook was slightly surprised there were no so-called Lost Boys waiting beyond the tree line to back Peter up should things go south.
"I must say, you're still looking splendid," Peter pushed off his tree, stepping out of the shadows, the sunlight glinting off his golden blonde hair and perfectly tanned skin.
"Let's skip the small talk," Hook glowered at him. "You brought a girl here. Why?"
Peter shrugged, tossing up an apple that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and catching it in his palm again. "Change of scenery? I'm sure Tink's tired of being the only girl on land."
"Bullshit," Hook snapped, pulling the sword from his scabbard, its tip almost reaching Peter. "You always brought boys; you're not changing it up now because Tinkerbell's bored."
Letting out a small laugh, Peter brought out a sword of his own, using its length to tip Hook's sword away from his chest. They plunged their blades into the sand beside them, almost in sync. Old habits die like a fucking bitch.
"You'd rather I'd brought John and Michael here and left Wendy there?" Peter asked, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice.
"I'd rather you not bring anyone else here, Peter." Biting his tongue to keep his temper in check, Hook shook his head slightly, causing loose curls to fall into his eyes.
Peter stared at him with a pained look. "They weren't safe there."
"They aren't safe here!" Hook yelled, grabbing his sword from its spot on his right and sinking it into the sand between them.
"James-"
"Don't." Hook held up a hand to cut him off, eyes closed as he attempted to calm his mind.
"It was an accident," Peter pleaded.
"He shouldn't have been there! He wouldn't have been there if you'd just..."
"If I'd just what?!" Peter countered, dragging his sword to his front, directly across from Hook's. "Left him there? He wasn't safe!"
"He was alive!" Hook lunged, grabbing a sword on his way and pressing it against Peter's throat as they crashed into a tree.
The phthalo green of Hook's eyes was reflected in Peter's own ocean-blue ones as they stared at each other.
"So, are you going to kill me? Won't solve anything," Peter's voice was quiet, barely loud enough for Hook to hear.
Shaking his head, Hook stepped back, the cold steel leaving a slight nick on Peter's neck. "You're not worth it," Hook turned, making his way back to the rowboat, sword dragging behind him. "I knew this was a bad idea."
It wasn't until he was back aboard the Jolly Roger, Hook realized he'd grabbed Peter's sword instead of his own.
Chapter Text
James stared at the boy sitting on his windowsill, pushing back his brother, who'd been trying to peek at the boy from behind James's back.
"I know a land," the boy offered with a soft and inviting smile. "Where no one ever cries into their pillow. We have fun every single day, and there are no grown-ups to tell us no, because we never grow old. There's magic so we can fly, and there are mermaids who teach us how to swim. Would you like to go there?"
"Go where?" James asked, wary of such a perfect-sounding place.
Letting out a quiet laugh, the boy hopped down from the windowsill, spreading his arms dramatically as he said, "Neverland!"
Milo stepped out from behind James, tilting his little head at the boy. "Where's Neverland? I've never heard of it before."
Crouching down to be on the same level as Milo, the boy leaned in like he was telling him a secret. "It's far, far away, in a whole 'nother world!"
"Sounds great," James muttered, wiping away the remnants of tears from his cheeks, wincing when he accidentally pressed on the forming bruises.
"It is!" The boy exclaimed, hopping up from his spot on the floor to stand beside James, throwing an arm around him. "It's magical."
Milo turned to James, eyes glistening with hope. "Can we go there, Jamie?"
"Wish we could, buddy," James said with a choked, fake laugh, ruffling Milo's hair affectionately.
"Oh, but you can," the boy insisted, grabbing James's hand, eyes sparkling as he dropped James's hand and ran back to the window. "All you have to do is believe, and we'll fly out of here."
"I believe!" Milo whisper-yelled, grabbing James by his wrist and pulling him towards the window.
Standing on the window ledge, the boy held out his hand. "What's your name?"
"I'm James, and this is Milo," James said, taking the boy's hand in his own. "And you are?"
"Peter Pan," the boy replied with a grin, winking as he pulled them out the window.
Chapter Text
Falling to his knees, Peter watched forlornly as Hook rowed away, not moving until he was just a speck by the Jolly Roger. "He's right, you know."
To an untrained eye, Peter would appear mildly insane, but he knew who was lurking in the woods.
The rustling of tree branches confirmed his suspicions, and he could hear the sand crunching underneath her boots as Tinkerbell slid onto the beach beside him. Currently in her human size, the sun beamed down on the sands, glinting against her syrupy brown hands digging into the sand.
"Right about what?"
"I'm not worth it," Peter murmured, staring off as the waves lapped at their boots. Tinkerbell paid the water no heed, likely to magic their shoes dry again later.
Pulling his knees up, Peter rested his head on his legs and turned to look at Tinkerbell. After staring at Hook, he'd realized just how long it'd been since he'd properly looked at someone. He noticed the small changes, like the way her pointed-out ears no longer drooped with lack of muscle, reminiscent of a puppy's floppy ears. Gold and silver earrings dripped off her ears like rain on a stormy day. Her wings flapped lazily, and he realized her wings reminded him of the emerald swallowtail butterflies he used to see. The wind ruffled her mossy green hair; he smiled when he caught sight of the small braids sitting in front of her ears, remembering how he used to help her get the braiding even.
"What are you looking at?" Tinkerbell asked, mimicking his pose.
His smile fell from his face as he replied. "We've grown, Tink." He shook his head to stop her from speaking before he continued. "I know we can't actually grow, but... we're different than when we first got here. I mean," he laughed a bit, though it wasn't funny. "Your clothes fit properly now, and your ears don't flop."
It was true; her cropped top hugged her ribs in a way it hadn't before, and her billowy pants were held on with a belt she hadn't used before. Peter had overheard the newest boy compare Tinkerbell's outfit to Jinx from a show the boy had seen snippets of.
She smiled at him, almost sympathetic. "Even if we haven't physically aged, we're still getting older in our own way. I look different because I know what I'm doing, Peter."
"I don't want us to look different," Peter murmured, barely loud enough for Tinkerbell to hear.
Her grin dropped as she realized the 'us' he referred to wasn't just him and her, sighing before asking.
"How did he look?"
Peter closed his eyes as he thought back to Hook. He said, "His new boots make him look taller." When he really meant that Hook's eyes had seemed to shimmer in the sunlight in a way they hadn't before. They seemed to shine with pain and loss, and Peter hated it. He'd looked older than the fifteen-year-old boy Peter had met all those years ago.
"So, he looked good, huh?"
"Yeah," Peter murmured. "He looked really good."
Notes:
ah, the gay longing is everything to me
Chapter 4: Hook
Chapter Text
Hook slid to the floor in the captain's quarters, his head resting on the desk station in the middle of the room. The sword dropped from his hands, clattering onto the deck beside him.
There was a soft knocking on the door, and he looked up as Maera slipped inside, her tail momentarily replaced with legs swallowed by a flowy skirt. She sat down beside him, eyes flicking to the sword. He could see the exact moment she registered who it belonged to and the exact moment she saw the thin shine of blood.
"What happened, Hook?"
"He's as infuriating as ever," was Hook's only response, avoiding eye contact.
"And you...?"
"Talked."
Maera breathed a sigh of what might have been relief, or maybe it was disappointment; it was hard to tell with her. "Hey..." She reached over and tilted his chin, forcing him to look towards her. "Look at me."
So he did. He looked at her deep blue wavy hair, bits falling into her face as she continued, "How long have we known each other?" He looked at her ocean-green eyes, flecked with lighter pieces, like seafoam, as she answered her own question. "Almost all of the time you've been here." He looked at her tinted blue skin; thinking about her meant he didn't have to think about him.
"And for half of that time, you've been looking for a way off this cursed island. Maybe the way off is..." She took a deep breath. "Different from what you may think. Maybe that's the way it has to be."
"And maybe that would doom us all, and maybe I don't want to," Hook's voice cracked a bit, and he turned away from her again.
She smiled sadly at him. "Just think about it, okay?"
Hook shook his head fiercely, "I don't want to think about it. Not when he's... him."
"And who is he?"
Staring into the floorboards, Hook was silent for a minute before finally answering, "I'm not sure anymore."
Chapter Text
James gripped Milo's hand as he stared at the beautiful island surrounding him. It felt like a dream, and he wasn't totally sure it wasn't. He was scared that at any moment, he would be ripped from this place and awake in his bed back atop the shop. It was stupid to be so scared, he knew, but even after a week in Neverland, it still didn't feel real.
"James," Milo whined, pulling his hand away with all his might. "You can let me go, I'm not going to disappear."
"Sorry, buddy," laughing, James ruffled Milo's hair as Peter appeared from between the trees.
Peter smiled at him, and James couldn't shake the feeling of spiders in his stomach as Peter held up three long sticks, almost perfectly straight, without any stray branches. "Look what I found!"
"Sticks," Milo observed, rather unimpressed.
Laughing, Peter held the smallest stick out for Milo to take, which he begrudgingly did. "Yes, but look, they're perfect for pretend swords."
"Why not just get real swords?" Milo asked, testing the strength of the stick against a nearby tree.
"You don't jump right to it. Plus, we don't need real swords to be pretend pirates."
James pushed off the tree he was leaning on and moved closer to Peter. "Pirates are thieving scum."
"Who told you that?" Peter asked quizzically, frowning at James.
Pausing, James faltered as he replied, "Our pa always said so."
"I think," Peter leaned in like he was sharing a secret. "Your pa said a lot of things that weren't right."
Flustered, James couldn't think of an answer.
Milo ran up to them, smacking at their stomachs with his pretend wooden sword. "Come on, let's play pirates!"
Smiling, Peter held out the other wooden sword to James. "You heard the boy, let's be pirates! You can be captain," he said with a wink.
"Captain Hook?" James asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at him, liking the way Peter laughed at his joke.
"No, I'm captain!" Milo yelled, grabbing Peter's hand and James' hook and pulling them further into the clearing.
Chapter Text
"Where were you?" Wendy Darling asked, crossing her arms and frowning as a strand of her long blond hair fell into her face.
Peter waved at John and Michael while they played with the rest of the lost boys before turning his attention to Wendy. "Keeping tabs on me?"
As Wendy's frown deepened, Peter put his jokes aside. "I was talking to someone."
"Who?" Wendy demanded.
Honestly, Peter thought she was awfully pushy, but he couldn't have brought John and Michael and left her, so he supposed he was stuck with her. "A boy I knew."
"I thought the lost boys were the only boys here," Wendy scowled at him, not liking the idea of being lied to.
"Yes and no," Peter sighed. "He used to be a lost boy, but he has removed himself from that name."
Wendy's scowl dropped. "Oh."
He nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure what her 'oh' meant. He got the impression it was usually best to just agree with her, even if you weren't sure what you were agreeing with.
"So, if he's not a lost boy, what is he?" Wendy pried.
Peter took a deep breath, deciding it was best to answer her questions honestly. After all, she didn't know him, so he doubted she would do anything about it. "He's a pirate," he responded fondly.
"Is he dangerous?" Wendy asked. "Since he's a pirate and all."
He was silent for a moment, not entirely sure if what he was about to say was true. "No. He's not dangerous."
"Does he grow old if he's not a lost boy?"
"No."
"When did he get here?"
"A long time ago."
"Were you close?"
"Very."
Wendy paused her questions for a moment, staring at him curiously before continuing, "Then why is he no longer a lost boy?"
There was an even longer pause before Peter responded, considering his answer carefully. "It's complicated, Wendy."
Surprisingly, Wendy didn't pry into what 'complicated' meant, choosing to let that go for the time being.
"So," she began, pausing to consider for a moment before asking her question. "Who is he?"
His mouth unconsciously began to smile when he thought about him before dropping away when he finally answered, "He's called Captain Hook."
Notes:
yeah, Wendy is, uh, pushy (bitchy?) rn, but she'll probably get character development later
probably
Chapter Text
Hook was just stepping out of his quarters when the ship shuddered, causing the crew to stumble, glancing at the others to make sure they weren't the only one who felt it.
Waving the crew back to work, he hastened to where his second in command, a small boy called Smee, stood by the wheel, brow furrowed in confusion.
The boy shrank back a bit as Hook approached; he'd always been a bit skittish. "Smee, what the hell was that?"
"I- I don't know," Smee stumbled over his words, nervously chewing on his knuckles, a habit he'd never been able to kick. "It's like we... hit land."
"That's impossible, we've sailed here hundreds of times," Hook said dismissively, looking away from Smee to survey their distance from the island.
Smee followed his gaze, squinting against the sun, letting Hook stew on his thoughts in silence.
"If we hit land, that would mean," Hook stopped mid-sentence. "Oh, fuck."
"Captain? Are you alright?" Concern filled Smee's voice; he'd never heard Hook fearful before, but there was no other word for it. If Hook felt fear, something was very, very wrong, Smee decided. "What would hitting land mean?"
Breathing slowly, Hook slid down to sit on the deck, motioning for Smee to join him. "Neverland's changing."
Smee almost laughed. "Neverland can't change." His relief was wiped away by the look on Hook's face when they met eyes. "...can it?"
"It can," Hook whispered, glancing across the deck to ensure no one was listening in. Taking a deep breath, he hurriedly gathered his thoughts. "Smee, get a rowboat ready and don't tell anyone what we just discussed."
Standing, Hook waited for Smee to nod in agreement before helping him up.
"What will you be doing, captain?"
Absentmindedly rubbing the pommel of the golden sword on his side, Hook sighed before replying. "I need to have another talk with someone. If Neverland is shifting, this goes beyond what I previously thought."
Notes:
Hey, it's been a minute-
(it's been worse, could've not updated for half a year) (which I've been known to do, tbh)
desperately trying to move the plot along (and find the plot, honestly, I'm winging it, how does Neverland work? Who knows)
ALSO, THIS CHAPTER SEEMS REALLY SHORT, LIKE SHORTER THAN USUAL FOR NORMAL CHAPTERS AND IT'S ANNOYING ME, BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE LONG CHAPTERS FOR THE LIFE OF ME
Also, look, it's Smee! Lil shy guy with anxiety, he gets his knuckle chewing from me :3
Chapter Text
James sat up as someone knocked on the open door. He couldn't help but smile when he saw Peter leaning on the doorframe.
"What're you doing hiding up here?" Peter asked, the sounds of rowdy lost boys barely audible from the treehouse. It was a very elaborate treehouse, you wouldn't realize it even was in a tree if you didn't know. James liked it. He liked a lot of things in Neverland.
He shrugged, embarrassed to answer. "Just thinking."
"What about?"
Silent for a moment, James replied instead with a question. "Do you remember when we first met?"
Moving from the doorway, door swinging shut behind him, Peter sat on the bed beside James, smiling softly. "Of course I do."
"You told me that Neverland was magical," his voice was quiet, just loud enough for Peter to hear. "I didn't believe you when you said that. I thought there was no way magic existed because if it did, things would be different."
The smile dropped from Peter's face, sympathy filling it instead as he put an arm around James' waist in comfort.
"I spent a while trying to find a flaw, something to prove Neverland wasn't really all that because nowhere can be perfect," his voice was sad, but James was almost smiling. "You were right, though. It is magical. Everything about it is magical."
Their eyes met, and suddenly, James was hyperaware of every movement he made. But Peter smiled at him as he leaned in, and when their lips met, for the first time in his life, James felt brave.
MaryFangirl on Chapter 6 Sun 27 Apr 2025 01:14AM UTC
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