John wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, his fingers still smeared with oil and dirt. The air around him buzzed with tension, the kind that made it feel like everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. Every clang of metal, every spark from the tools in his hands, felt like a countdown.

“We don’t have much time,” he muttered under his breath, glancing over his shoulder at the Lost Boys, who were working furiously beside him.

Nibs and Curly were crouched by the main engine, their faces tense with concentration. Curly, whose usual carefree grin was nowhere to be seen, fumbled with a wrench, his fingers shaking as he tried to tighten the bolts on the airship’s hull. “I’m not sure this’ll hold, John,” he said, his voice a tight whisper.

John knelt beside Curly, quickly inspecting the work. “It’ll have to,” he said, his voice steady, though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Just keep going. We’re almost there.”

His mind raced. There was so much left to do, and so little time. Hook’s pirates were closing in—he could feel it. Every second they spent here was a second closer to disaster. But there was no room for panic. Not now.

“Where are the twins?” John asked, glancing around the small clearing. His eyes scanned the trees nervously, but before he could fully spiral into worry, the familiar sound of their voices reached him from across the airship.

“We’re almost done, John!” one of the twins called, waving a hand from the other side of the hull, where they were working on repairing the ship’s rigging. They had been a whirlwind of activity ever since they started, and John had to admit, they knew what they were doing. More than that, they had an almost intuitive understanding of the airship’s mechanics, something that John found both impressive and slightly unnerving.

He nodded, forcing his voice to stay calm. “Good. Keep it up.”

His hand tightened around the wrench in his own grasp as he returned to the delicate task in front of him. The airship had been badly damaged in the crash, but it wasn’t beyond repair. He just had to stay focused. He just had to keep his mind sharp.

But the weight of it all pressed down on him—the responsibility. He was the oldest son. He was supposed to know what to do, supposed to protect Wendy and Michael. But here they were, stuck in the middle of Neverland, with Hook’s pirates breathing down their necks, and John wasn’t sure he could fix everything in time.

The thought gnawed at him, a rising anxiety that threatened to choke his focus. He wasn’t like Peter, who thrived on the chaos and adventure of Neverland. John needed things to be orderly—to have a plan, a structure. But Neverland didn’t follow any rules, and that terrified him.

“John,” Curly said, his voice pulling him back from the edge of panic. “What next?”

John took a breath, steadying himself. “We keep going,” he said, louder this time, his voice firm. “We’re not done yet.”

Coordinating the Repairs

John stood up and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had settled there like a vice. The airship was taking shape, but there was still so much to do. Every time he thought they were making progress, a new problem seemed to pop up. He hated that feeling—the sense of being just behind the curve, always catching up.

“Twins!” John called, his voice sharp as he strode toward the bow of the ship where they were working. “How are we looking on the rigging?”

The twins looked up simultaneously, their identical faces covered in dirt and sweat but lit with determination. One of them—John could never tell which—held up a frayed rope. “We’re fixing the last section now. Another few minutes, and we’ll be ready to test it.”

“Good,” John said, nodding as he scanned the area. The twins worked fast, and John had to admit that they had an instinctive grasp on how to rig the ship’s sails. If anyone could get the airship ready to fly again, it was them.

But the pressure was mounting. He could feel it like a storm cloud hanging over them. The seconds were ticking away too quickly, and Hook’s pirates were creeping closer. John knew that the moment the pirates arrived, they’d be outnumbered and outgunned. They wouldn’t stand a chance if the airship wasn’t ready in time.

His eyes flicked toward Curly and Nibs, who were still working on the engine. The two of them were strong, capable, but John could see the fatigue in their movements. Curly especially looked worn out—his shoulders were slumped, and his hands shook as he fumbled with a bolt.

“Curly!” John called, hurrying over. “Take a quick break.”

Curly shook his head. “Can’t... no time.”

“You’ll be no help to us if you collapse,” John said firmly. He placed a hand on Curly’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Take five minutes, and I’ll help Nibs with the engine. We’re almost there.”

Curly hesitated, then gave a small nod, stepping back to catch his breath. John knelt down beside Nibs, who was wrestling with a section of piping that seemed to have gotten stuck.

“This thing’s stubborn,” Nibs muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

John frowned, inspecting the pipe. “Let me see.”

He took the wrench from Nibs and gave the pipe a twist, feeling the tension in the metal. Something wasn’t aligned properly. John’s mind whirred as he traced the problem back to its source. With a flick of his wrist, he adjusted a valve further back, and the pipe slid into place with a satisfying click.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“There,” John said, handing the wrench back to Nibs. “That should do it.”

Nibs grinned. “You’re a lifesaver, John.”

John forced a smile, though the weight of responsibility still pressed down on him. The Lost Boys were counting on him, and for the first time, John was realizing just how much they relied on someone to take charge. Peter was their leader, but Peter didn’t do this—he didn’t handle the practical, the methodical. Peter was about adventure and chaos, but in moments like this, it was John they needed.

He wasn’t sure if he liked that feeling.

“Curly,” John called out again. “You ready to get back in?”

Curly stood up, nodding. His face was pale, but he gave John a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s finish this.”

“Good,” John said, clapping him on the back. “We don’t have much time.”

Time Running Out

John’s heart pounded in his chest, louder now as the seconds seemed to tick away faster and faster. The repairs were going well, but the sense of dread hanging over them was impossible to shake. He knew Hook’s pirates were close—too close—and every minute they spent fixing the airship was a minute lost in the race to escape.

“John!” one of the twins called from up on the airship’s deck, his voice carrying a note of panic. “We’ve spotted movement near the edge of the trees!”

John felt his stomach twist as he looked toward the tree line. His pulse quickened. The pirates were coming.

“We’re almost out of time,” he muttered, turning to the Lost Boys. “Keep working. We’re not done yet.”

The twins scurried back to their positions, tightening the last few ropes on the rigging, while Curly and Nibs worked faster on the engine. John could see the fear in their eyes, but they were still following his lead, still trusting him to get them out of this.

He wished he had that kind of faith in himself.

His hands shook slightly as he hurried to the side of the ship, inspecting the progress they had made. The airship was taking shape again—barely—but it was fragile. One wrong move, one final misstep, and everything they had worked for would fall apart. He could almost hear the pirates’ boots trampling through the jungle, their weapons drawn, ready to strike.

“John, what do we do if they get here before we’re ready?” Curly asked, his voice tight with fear as he tightened the last bolt on the engine. “We won’t be able to fight them all off.”

John’s mind raced. He hadn’t wanted to think about that possibility, but now he had no choice. If they couldn’t finish the repairs in time, they’d be trapped. Peter wasn’t here to lead the charge, to rally the Lost Boys into one of his daring, reckless plans. It was all up to John now.

“Listen to me,” John said, his voice low but firm. “If they get too close, we’ll have to distract them. We can’t fight them head-on, but we can slow them down. Use the jungle, the rocks—anything you can find.”

He tried to sound confident, like he had it all under control, but his mind was racing. His only goal was to keep the Lost Boys safe, to protect his siblings. The weight of that responsibility pressed down on him harder than ever, making it hard to breathe.

Nibs stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers, his face grim. “The engine’s ready, but I don’t know if it’ll hold up under pressure. We’ll need some luck.”

John nodded, his throat tight. “We’ll need more than that.”

A low rustling sound came from the trees, and John’s head snapped up. His heart raced as he saw shadows moving among the leaves—pirates, closing in.

“They’re coming,” Curly whispered, his face pale.

John’s mind screamed for him to panic, to run, to do anything, but he forced himself to focus. There was no time for fear. Not now.

“Stay calm,” John said, though the words felt hollow even to him. “We’re almost there.”

Escape Plan

John’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat heavy with the weight of their survival. The pirates were almost here—he could feel it in the air, in the tension creeping closer. His breath came quicker as he realized they didn’t have much time left. The airship was as ready as it was going to be, but the real test was still ahead.

“Everyone, gather around,” John called, his voice firm despite the fear crawling up his spine. The Lost Boys, Curly, Nibs, and the twins all hurried toward him, their faces tight with worry.

“We’ve got one shot at this,” John said, scanning their anxious faces. “The airship is ready, but we need to distract Hook and his pirates long enough to get airborne. We can’t let them know we’re about to take off, or they’ll storm the ship.”

Nibs stepped forward, his jaw set. “What’s the plan?”

John swallowed hard, knowing he had to take charge. “We’ll split into two groups. One will stay near the airship and finish the last-minute preparations. The other will create a diversion in the jungle—set off some traps, make some noise. Anything to make Hook think we’re scattered.”

He could see the nerves in their eyes, but he had to believe they could do this. Peter wasn’t here, and John had to be the leader they needed.

“I’ll stay with the airship,” John continued, keeping his voice steady. “Nibs, you’re with me. The twins will go with Curly to lead the distraction. Make as much noise as you can without getting caught.”

The twins nodded, their usual playful demeanor replaced with focused determination. Curly, though pale, gave a firm nod, his resolve clear.

“Are we sure this will work?” Curly asked, his voice quieter now.

John paused for a moment, feeling the weight of Curly’s question. Was he sure? No. But he had to act like he was. They didn’t have any other options.

“It’ll work,” John said, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—himself or them. “We’ll make it work.”

He turned to Nibs. “Let’s get the airship ready to go. Once Curly and the twins make their move, we need to be in the air as fast as possible.”

Nibs gave him a tight nod and hurried back to the airship’s engine, working to make the final adjustments.

John took a deep breath and faced Curly again. “Be careful out there.”

Curly grinned, though it was shaky. “You too.”

And with that, Curly and the twins disappeared into the trees, their figures swallowed up by the dense jungle. The air was thick with tension, and John felt every second ticking away as he and Nibs rushed to finish the last tasks on the airship.

John’s hands trembled as he tied off the last rope on the rigging, his heart pounding in his ears. The jungle was too quiet now, and it only made the knot in his stomach tighten.

Then, suddenly, the silence was broken by a series of sharp noises—branches snapping, voices shouting. Curly and the twins had started the distraction. The noise grew louder, echoing through the trees, and for a split second, John allowed himself a small glimmer of hope.

“Now, Nibs!” John shouted, his hands already moving to unfurl the sails.

Nibs scrambled to the engine, giving it one last check before firing it up. The low hum of the airship’s engine filled the clearing, vibrating through John’s bones. The sails billowed, catching the wind, and John felt a rush of relief as the ship slowly began to rise.

But the relief was short-lived. Through the trees, John saw shadows moving—pirates, drawn by the noise. They were close, too close.

“Hurry!” John yelled, his voice tight with urgency.

The airship lifted higher, the ground falling away beneath them, but it wasn’t fast enough. The pirates had spotted them.

A chorus of shouts erupted as they charged toward the ship, weapons drawn, but it was too late. John and Nibs were already in the air, the wind carrying them away from the jungle and the danger below.

John let out a shaky breath as the airship soared higher, the trees shrinking beneath them. They had done it. They had escaped. But even as the relief washed over him, John couldn’t shake the feeling that the real danger was still ahead.

“Let’s find Peter,” John muttered, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “This isn’t over yet.”