A/N: This is based on the 2003 movie with Jason Isaacs as a delicious Captain James Hook and Jeremy Sumpter as Peter Pan. It is also a Hook/Wendy story since I just absolutely adore that pairing.

Special thanks to FlowerPagoda, my beautiful Beta for this project.

Please review at the end. Thank you!

The Verge of Everything

She was seventeen and on the verge of adulthood. The prospect for most girls was one of
strange, fascinating wonder. To think that in a few short months she would be eligible for
marriage, which her mother and father were both gently pushing her towards. They had
introduced her to a large number of "fine young gentlemen" as her father called them;
most of them he worked with at the bank.

Wendy Darling sighed to herself, staring out the window of her bedroom into a cloudless
night. She supposed she would eventually have to go and pick from among those men a
suitable man but they all seemed so very droll. They weren't anything like the stories she
had thought of as a child, the stories she still thought of now and sometimes told her
brothers at night, even though they were older and John seemed to no longer care for

"Oh Peter," she breathed his name which to her seemed appropriate. Was he not air
itself? The way he floated on his happy thoughts alone was like a leaf in the wind. That is,
if a leaf was capable of carrying a dagger in an upturned hand or a laugh that could
change the weather itself.

But Peter wasn't coming back for her. Every year Wendy Darling had called his name out
into the night in an attempt to bring the boy back to her to take her to the Neverland
where she wouldn't have to grow up and get married and become old, ugly, and done for.
And every year the wind was all the answered her. She was about to give up hope.
Certainly, if he did not come for her soon she would be forced to grow up and that would
be utterly miserable all around.

Time passed unhurriedly as the girl became more and more burdened with heavy
thoughts of adulthood. She stood shakily, unshed tears forming behind her eyes as she
placed heavy, white hands upon the windowsill. "Goodbye, Peter," she whispered as her
eyes closed. Two perfect little drops fell down her cheeks as she began to bring the
window glass down down down . . .


What was that? Wendy's eyes opened rapidly to see a pair of baby blues staring at her. A
mischievous smile seemed to take up the boy's entire face while a mop of careless blond
hair fell into his face. There were spindly legs and spindly arms crisscrossing his chest.
That self-assured smirk seemed to brighten his whole being as all the fairy dust in the
world could not.

"Peter," Wendy Darling whispered reverently, stepping back in disbelief. "Is it really you?"
"It's me, Wendy." The forever-boy grinned and jumped into the bedroom. He looked
around the room curiously. Michael and John were still sleeping in their beds as they had
when Peter had first visited them so many years ago. "You've grown," he stated
"Of course I have!" Wendy said. "I couldn't help it."

"You should have," he pouted and kicked his left foot out.

It was all so very strange. Wendy blinked and pinched herself just to make sure that she
wasn't hallucinating this because she had wanted it so badly.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked her as his head cocked to the side.

"I'm convincing myself this isn't some wonderful dream."

Peter Pan waved his arms and floated a few feet in the air. "I'm no dream!" he cried. "I'm
not a dream! I'm a real boy. A real, wonderful boy." He grinned. Wendy only laughed and
wrapped her arms around his flying form.

"Oh Peter! I've waited for you to come back for me. I've missed you so much."

Peter blushed. "I've missed you too, Wendy. I wasn't gone for long."

"It was years!"

Peter took a sitting position in the air and placed his hand under his chin in a mocking
way. "Time is different in the Neverland, I think."

Wendy shook her head and clapped wildly and she jumped, her hair flaying about her face
like a child's. "Oh, it doesn't matter. You're here now. Tell me of all your adventures
you've had!"

Peter enjoyed being the storyteller with Wendy as his captive audience. He explained to
her of his adventures with Tigerlily and the rest of the Indians. They often went on hunting
parties to find the most dangerous animals. He told her of the fairies as they danced with
brilliant luminance during the equinox. He spoke of the lost boys and how they built an
even larger house, complete with a swimming pool. He described, with rapid hand
gestures, his most recent battle with the dreaded pirate Captain James Hook.

"Hook!" exclaimed Wendy. "But he's dead. That crocodile ate him!"

"Ah, but you see the crocodile made a mistake by swallowing him whole. Hook sliced open
the beast from the inside." He grabbed his dagger and sliced the air violently to
Wendy gulped. She recalled the last time she had seen Captain James Hook, before the
crocodile ate him, that is. He had shone brilliantly in red and gold, though not as brightly as
that terrible hook-hand of his did when it gleamed in the sunlight. And those eyes, what
terrible warring blue eyes that, when focused on her as a child, seemed to rip past every
defense. As a child she hadn't been afraid of him, not really. She was afraid of the things
he did, certainly. What girl would not fear death as it fell before her? Or walking, barefoot
and blindfolded, off a plank while his rich voice wished her a sardonic goodbye?

As an almost-adult she had had more than one nightmare about Captain Hook and his
brilliant, dreadful eyes.

"Oh my. It all sounds so wonderful and frightening. Oh Peter, I would give anything to be
able to go back one more time. Just to have one more adventure."

"You can," said the boy with serious innocence.

"Oh, don't be silly, Peter. I can't fly anymore."

Peter laughed at this, throwing his whole body into it until he was floating on his back in
the room. "Of course you can! You still have happy thoughts, don't you?" He sobered for a
moment, staring at the girl with a frightful look that little boys have when they are first told
of the boogey-man. "You haven't lost that? Have you? All your stories?"

"No, Peter," she shook her head and smiled, if only a little sadly. "They can't take that
away from me. It's yours, really. And nobody can take anything from Peter Pan!" At that
the boy laughed so loud and so brightly that Wendy was sure they could hear it back in the

In any case, it was loud enough to wake up both John and Michael.

"What's this, then?" asked John, eyes narrowed at being disturbed from his slumber.

"Is that you, Peter?" asked Michael in a small, disbelieving voice. He clutched his Teddy-
Bear, the same one he had from those adventures years ago, tightly to his chest.

Wendy quickly answered in a rush of excitement. "Of course it is! It really is Peter Pan!"

"Oh! Oh, John! It's Peter Pan!" Michael was shaking, he was so delirious with wonder and
thrill. "Do you remember me, Peter?"

"Course I do!" said the forever-boy with an childish, indulgent look. "You're Michael
Darling and you," he said, turning to John, "Are John Darling who wore a top hat while
fighting pirates!"

Michael looked positively delighted while John merely looked slightly chagrined by the
"Peter is going to take us to Neverland again!" cried Wendy with all hope shining in her
eyes. Peter nodded with a smirk.

Michael threw himself out of bed and was beside himself with joy at the thought of
returning back to the Neverland. John looked away.

"Come on then, let's fly before the sun comes up!" said Peter. He called upon Tinkerbell,
his trusty if not overly mischievous fairy, who graciously sprinkled her glittering dust upon
Michael and Wendy's head. If Wendy noticed that the fairy seemed to throw the dust at her
with more force than was absolutely necessary she kept that knowledge to herself.

"Now then, think happy thoughts!"

Michael and Wendy thought of their past adventures in the Neverland and it lifted them up
into the air. Michael let out a whoop of delight while Wendy giggled and covered her mouth
with her hands, though her eyes laughed brilliantly all the same.

"Come on, John! We're going back to Neverland!" said Michael to his brother who, for
some reason the little boy could not fathom, had still not risen from bed.

"I have no desire to go," said John quietly, but with an edge to his voice.

"What? Why not?" asked Michael.

"You must come with us, John." Wendy looked forlornly at her brother and slowly started
to descend back to the ground. "It won't be the same without you."

John raised himself to an upright sitting position and held his nose up in the air stiffly,
much as Mr. Darling had done before the children's first trip with Peter. "I've no time for
silly games anymore. I'm going to grow up and get a job and a wife and be responsible.
There's nothing in there that will benefit by my leaving to do battle with pirates and the

"But John," said Michael who by now was standing on the ground again.

"No, Michael. It's time to put away childish things. You would do well to do the same," he
looked pointedly at Wendy when he said this. The girl, however, in a rush of adrenaline
and rage against the prospect of adulthood, zoomed into the air and grasped the hand of
Peter Pan.

"I am going with Peter, John. You won't know what you're missing."

"That's perfectly all right with me," said John before he tossed the covers over himself and
played sleep.
No amount of coaxing on Michael's part (though, to the boys credit he truly tried) would
rouse John. After a while Peter grabbed onto Michael and with a soft murmur the two of
them were flying out the window and towards the wonderful place of dreams and
escapades. Wendy took a deep breath and looked down upon the faux sleeping figure of
her brother.

"I won't grow up. Not yet. I have to be allowed this one more time," she said quietly. With
a sad look upon her brother's form she too took to the air and met up with the shining boy
from her stories.

The three rode the air, each with arms outstretched to welcome the glorious beginning of
another adventure. The wind whipped past them, scratching against their cheeks but none
cared for their minds were only on the golden island of dreams which would soon lend to
them every fantasy and brilliant, beautiful ambition that their child-hearts could wish for.


As the children approached the Neverland a lone figure stood tall and menacingly atop the
deck of the infamous Jolly Roger. He watched the parting of the darkness and the melting
of the ice with a sardonic expression plastered across his face.

Ho hum. The little menace returneth.

Captain James Hook, regal and proud, shouted for all hands on deck. While his crew
scurried like rats under his orders he turned his gaze up to the sky in a vain hope of
catching a glimpse of the boy. Perhaps some dark deity would for once smile upon him and
guide his pistol into hitting the brat out of the air.

What a delicious little splash his body would make as it hit the water.

But as his eyes searched the heavens no sign of Pan was forthcoming. With a muttered
curse the Captain turned on heel and strode to his rooms with plans formulating on how he
would rid the Neverland of that flying boy once and for all.