First fanfic since 2014. Feeling blue about how dead LJ is, so many comms on permanent hiatus. So I worked through the gloom and turned it to perverse optimism via Peter Pan. Adult implications but nothing graphic.

Straight On

The sky was a dull gray, the sun nowhere to be seen. Heavy clouds loomed, low and menacing. The birds were silent and tree-bound, and the foliage grew mossy-moist in the darkness. Pan's heart knew a heaviness he'd never felt, a threat to all that Neverland had always been. He tried to fly up and beat the rain from them, but they evaded his blows and he grew quickly fatigued.

Returning to his home, he found the Lost Boys still slept soundly, piled for warmth like hibernating bears in their musty den. He could not wake them. Neither invitation to adventure nor threats of punishment roused them.

He next sought out the Indians. Surely they could don their colorful paint and dance to release the rain and make all bright and dewy-fresh once more. But they were as sluggish as the Lost Boys, unable to summon the energy to drum or sing. Tiger Lily was the only wakeful spirit about, but she looked as weary as Pan felt, and she had only the strength to shoot one arrow. It failed to reach the clouds.

Pan sighed and scuffed his heel in the damp soil. "I've got to make things right," he mumbled. Tiger Lily stroked the feather in her hair and sat back down to rest without replying.

With effort, Pan flew slowly to the Pirates' ship. On the deck, the crew snored discordantly, a foul and soiled chorus of familiar ne'er-do-wells. Their ridiculous sprawling brought a quirk to Pan's lip, but it did not last. To see his enemies so vulnerable could only be a pleasure if he'd rendered them so.

He landed and went in search of his true nemesis, Captain Hook. If anyone knew what lay at the heart of the gloom that hovered over Neverland, it would be Hook. He found his mustachioed foe lying on the bunk in his chambers, arm across his face. "Not you, too," said Pan.

"Oh, go away, Peter. I haven't the liveliness to bother with the likes of you." He lifted his arm and waved the long-fingered hand that extended limply from his ruffled sleeve.

"The likes of me?" snapped Pan. His pulse quickened. "The likes of me? Why there is no one else like me!" He felt his blood surging in his veins, despite the murky world around him.

Hook stirred. "Foolish boy," he declared, mustering a small grin and a more than a hint of his usual scorn as he sat up in his tousled bunk.

"It's you who's the fool, Hook." He dug his little fists proudly into his hips and raised his pointed chin.

Hook leapt to his feet and unsheathed his sword, the color coming back into his pale cheeks. "We'll see about that, Peter!"

Pan heard the sound of excited voices above. "Look!" one man called to another. "The sun!" a second squeaked. "I see it!" cried a third. "Coming through the clouds!"

Pan suddenly understood. His eyes sparkled. Rising into the air until he could stare straight into the captain's beady eyes, he smiled broadly. "Aha," he said, and his little prick stiffened.

Hook nodded, eyeing the bulge. "It seems we've both been fools. Together, we're the engine that drives Neverland. And we haven't…battled…for a fortnight."

"I won't be remiss again," Pan promised with a salute. He pointed to the bed. "Now, Hook, drop your tights and bend over. I'm gonna give it to you straight on 'til morning."