The wind whipped through Peter’s hair as he soared over the treetops, his thoughts racing like the birds that flitted through the sky. He loved the feeling of flying, the freedom of it, but something felt... off. His stomach tightened with a strange sense of unease. He scanned the horizon, the familiar sights of Neverland passing beneath him in a blur. The jungle. The lagoon. The volcano, glowing faintly in the distance. But no Wendy. No sign of her.

And then, he saw it—a flash of light. It was small, almost too small to notice, but it flickered again, and Peter’s sharp eyes locked onto it. He slowed in midair, hovering as he squinted at the source of the glimmer. His heart thudded faster. It was coming from the Jolly Roger, from the direction of the pirate ship.

Another flash. Then another.

Peter’s mind raced, and he felt a surge of adrenaline. That wasn’t just any light—that was Wendy. His gut told him so. She was signaling him, sending out a desperate plea for help.

“They’ve got her,” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. Hook had her.

Without another second of hesitation, Peter shot forward, diving toward the Lost Boys’ camp like a comet. His wings beat the air furiously, his mind already moving a mile a minute. Wendy was in danger. He had to save her—now.

The trees parted as he descended into the clearing, landing with a sharp thud that sent the boys scrambling to their feet.

“Lost Boys! Line up!” Peter barked, his voice tight with urgency. There was no time for games now, no time for play. He could feel the seconds slipping away, each one bringing Hook closer to victory.

The Lost Boys rushed into position, lining up in front of him in a well-practiced formation. Slightly stood at the front, his expression serious, while Nibs and Curly flanked him, eyes wide with alertness. Tootles and the twins followed suit, their movements more hurried but just as focused. Even John and Michael felt motivated to join in the formation.

Peter’s eyes flicked over them, assessing them quickly. They were ready. Good. They had to be. This wasn’t just a rescue—it was a battle.

“Wendy’s in trouble,” Peter said, his words coming out fast, clipped. “Hook’s got her. We need to get her back. Now.”

The boys stiffened at the mention of Hook’s name, their faces growing more serious. Peter’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to let Hook win—not this time.

“What’s the plan, Peter?” Slightly asked, his voice calm despite the urgency in the air. He always knew when to keep his cool, and Peter appreciated that.

“Simple,” Peter said, the outline of a strategy already forming in his head. “We go in fast. The ship’s their weak point—they won’t expect us. You, Slightly, take half the boys and create a diversion. Nibs, Curly, with me. We’re going straight for the deck.”

He could see the boys nodding, processing the orders, but Peter didn’t give them time to think it over. There wasn’t time for hesitation. Not now.

“Let’s move!” he shouted, and with that, they were off.

Gathering the Lost Boys

The jungle blurred past as Peter flew low, weaving through the trees with the Lost Boys sprinting close behind. The urgency in the air was thick, pushing them faster, harder. There was no time to second-guess or slow down. Peter’s mind was set—get Wendy back and take Hook down.

“Keep up!” Peter shouted, glancing over his shoulder as the group tore through the undergrowth. His heart racing with adrenaline, he could feel it now—the pulse of the fight building in his chest. They were close.

“Everyone ready?” Peter asked, his voice sharp as they skidded to a halt near the shore, the dark outline of the Jolly Roger looming in the distance.

The boys gathered around him, catching their breath, their eyes wide but focused. Slightly stood at Peter’s side, calm as ever, his gaze fixed on the ship. He didn’t need to speak—Peter knew Slightly was ready. Nibs and Curly hovered just behind him, waiting for orders.

Peter looked them over quickly. “Slightly, you take your team to the east side—draw the pirates out, make as much noise as you can. Nibs, Curly, we’re going up the side of the ship.”

Slightly nodded. “What about Hook?”

“I’ll handle Hook,” Peter said, his tone cold and sharp. He wasn’t just going after Hook to rescue Wendy. This time, it was personal.

Peter’s eyes flicked toward the ship, his jaw clenched tight. He could see the pirates milling around on the deck, unaware of what was coming. They wouldn’t be for long.

“Remember,” Peter said, his voice low and serious, “this isn’t a game. Stick to the plan, and we get Wendy back.”

There was a brief moment of silence as the Lost Boys absorbed his words. This wasn’t like their usual skirmishes—this was different. There was no laughing, no playful banter. Just the weight of what was at stake. Peter could feel it, too, but he wouldn’t let the fear stop him.

Slightly stepped forward, his face set in determination. “Let’s give them hell.”

Peter grinned, the excitement bubbling back up for a second. “That’s the spirit. Now, go!”

With that, Slightly and the rest of his team darted into the trees, disappearing into the shadows as they moved toward the east side of the ship. Peter watched them go for a brief moment, his heart pounding harder now. Slightly would handle it—he always did.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Peter turned back to Nibs and Curly. “You with me?”

“Always,” Nibs said, his grip tightening on the rope in his hand.

Curly nodded, though Peter could see the tension in his eyes. “Let’s do this.”

Peter smirked. “Right. Time to give Hook a little surprise.”

With a quick nod, Peter shot into the air, Nibs and Curly right behind him as they made their way toward the Jolly Roger, slipping through the shadows. His heart pounded, his mind racing with thoughts of Wendy. They were coming, and Hook had no idea.

The Rescue Plan

Peter hovered silently just below the deck of the Jolly Roger, his sharp eyes scanning the ship above. The muffled sounds of pirates going about their business drifted down, but none of them had noticed him yet. Perfect.

Nibs and Curly crouched behind him, their breaths shallow, their eyes fixed on the ship’s hull. They were ready. Peter could feel their tension, their nerves, but he knew they’d follow his lead.

“Keep quiet,” Peter whispered, his voice barely a breath. “We slip in, grab Wendy, and we’re out before Hook even knows we’re here.”

The boys nodded, their faces pale but determined.

Peter’s heart pounded faster as he reached for the edge of the ship, pulling himself up to peek over the side. A pirate was leaning lazily against the rail, his back to Peter, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

Peter smirked. The pirate had no idea.

“Now,” Peter whispered, and in one smooth motion, he swung over the side of the ship, landing silently on the deck. Nibs and Curly followed, their feet hitting the wood without a sound.

Peter’s pulse quickened. They were on board, but the hard part was still ahead. Wendy was somewhere below deck, and Hook would be waiting. He could feel it.

Nibs nudged him, pointing toward the cabin door. “There,” he mouthed.

Peter nodded and gestured for the boys to follow. He led them toward the door, every sense on high alert. His fingers brushed the handle, ready to slip inside, but before he could open it, the door swung wide.

Peter froze. Hook stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

“Well, well,” Hook said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I had a feeling you’d show up, Pan.”

Peter’s heart stuttered, but he didn’t let it show. He straightened, his hand tightening on the hilt of his dagger. “Let her go, Hook.”

Hook laughed, stepping out onto the deck, his mechanical arm gleaming in the moonlight. “And miss the chance to finally best you? I think not.”

Peter’s pulse quickened, but he didn’t back down. He could feel Nibs and Curly tense behind him, waiting for his lead. This was it—the moment he’d been waiting for.

“I’ll ask one last time,” Peter said, his voice low, dangerous. “Let her go.”

Hook’s smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re too late, boy. Wendy is mine. And soon, so will be your precious island.”

Peter’s jaw clenched. He didn’t have time for this. Every second wasted was a second closer to Hook’s plan succeeding. But there was no way out now. Hook had drawn him into this confrontation, and there was only one way it would end.

Peter’s eyes flicked to Nibs and Curly. “Go,” he whispered.

Without hesitation, the boys darted around Hook, slipping toward the cabin below. Peter watched them go, hoping they would find Wendy before it was too late. His eyes snapped back to Hook.

“It’s just you and me now,” Peter said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Hook’s cruel smile returned. “That’s just how I like it.”

Confronting the Pirates – The Beginning of the Battle

The night air hung thick with tension, the creak of the Jolly Roger’s timbers echoing in the stillness. Peter stood on the deck, his eyes locked on Hook, his hand gripping his dagger tightly. This wasn’t a game anymore. Hook’s grin was sharp, his mechanical arm gleaming menacingly as he stepped forward, his eyes filled with cruel anticipation.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Pan,” Hook said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. “For years, you’ve played your little games, flying in and out of danger. But this time, there’s no escape.”

Peter’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, but he forced himself to stay calm, his eyes never leaving Hook’s. “You’ve never beaten me before,” Peter said, his voice steady despite the growing tension. “What makes you think you’ll do it now?”

Hook’s smile twisted into something darker. “Because this time, I have something you care about.”

Peter felt a chill run down his spine, but he didn’t flinch. He wouldn’t let Hook see any weakness. “You’re not going to win,” Peter said, his voice low and dangerous. “Not this time.”

In a flash, Hook lunged forward, his hook gleaming as he swung it toward Peter. Peter’s reflexes kicked in, and he dodged to the side, his legs flicking him up and out of Hook’s reach. But Hook was fast—faster than Peter had anticipated. He whirled around, striking again, his mechanical arm clicking and whirring as it transformed into a blade.

Peter’s heart pounded as he parried the blow with his dagger, the sharp clang of metal-on-metal ringing through the night. Hook’s eyes flashed with fury, and he pressed forward, forcing Peter to give ground.

“You can’t run from this, boy,” Hook snarled, his attacks relentless. “You may have pixie dust, but you’re not flying away from me this time.”

Peter gritted his teeth, his muscles straining as he blocked another strike. The weight of Hook’s mechanical arm was heavier than he’d expected, and each blow sent shocks through his body. But Peter refused to back down. Not now. Not when Wendy needed him.

Hook swung again, and Peter ducked just in time, the hook slicing through the air where his head had been moments before. Peter lashed out with his dagger, but Hook blocked it easily, grinning wickedly as he drove Peter back against the railing.

Peter’s breath came fast and shallow, his eyes darting toward the cabin below deck where Nibs and Curly had disappeared. He could only hope they were close to finding Wendy. He couldn’t keep this up forever—Hook was stronger, more relentless, and his attacks were growing fiercer by the second.

“Give up, Pan,” Hook growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re finished.”

Peter’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Never.”

With a surge of energy, Peter leaped into the air high above Hook’s head. Hook cursed, swinging wildly, but Peter was already out of reach. His mind raced as he hovered above the ship, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to find a way to end this—fast. Hook wasn’t playing games anymore. He was playing for keeps.

Peter’s eyes scanned the deck, looking for anything that might give him an edge. And then he saw it—a rope tied loosely to one of the ship’s masts, trailing down toward the deck below. A plan formed in Peter’s mind, quick and desperate, but it was the only chance he had.

With a determined glint in his eye, Peter dove down toward the deck, his hands grabbing the rope as he flew past. He looped it around Hook’s arm in one swift motion, pulling it tight before Hook could react. Hook’s eyes widened in shock, and he snarled, yanking at the rope, but it was too late.

Peter gave the rope a sharp tug, and Hook’s mechanical arm jerked upward, throwing him off balance. Peter didn’t waste a second—he darted forward, slamming his foot into Hook’s chest and sending him sprawling across the deck.

Hook crashed into the railing, his mechanical arm tangled in the rope, and for the first time, Peter saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But the fight wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

Peter landed lightly on the deck, his eyes never leaving Hook’s. “I told you,” Peter said, his voice calm but deadly serious. “You’re not going to win.”

Hook’s lips curled into a snarl, his eyes burning with rage as he cut the rope entangling his arm. “We’ll see about that, Pan.”