HAPPY BIRTHDAY FQ!!!

[maderr]

It isn't much, but I promised it to you in return for all your lovely fanart and I figured you'd let me get away with doubling it for you birthday. Only the prologue and first chapter, but I hope you like it.

Some notes: Peter Pan definitely does not belong to me, and I am taking severe liberties with the book in order to write this. Most notably, Hook obviously didn't die in my world. And now for your entertainment (or at least amusment):

Lost and Found

Prologue

Peter Pan glided lightly through the window and stepped gently into the room, feet soundless on the thick carpet beneath him. The room was strangely dark and oddly still. Usually there was a warm fire to cast light, always flickering at the edge of Wendy's bed, the closest to the fireplace. And always there was a lamp lit, to ward off the more unpleasant of night's visitors.

Suddenly he wished Tink had come along after all - but the fairy was being troublesome again and he'd locked her up to keep her from following him. "Wendy?" he called into the darkness, pouting when there was no response. "Wendy!" he demanded in a louder whisper, "It's time to clean!"

"Wendy's not here." A voice spoke from behind him, cool and calm.

Peter whirled around, shocked and dismayed that he'd not sensed anyone in the room. He glared at the boy standing with his back to the window. "Who are you? Where's Wendy?"

"My sister is dead." The boy spoke flatly, his expression muted in the moonlight that spilled in around him. Peter was briefly distracted by the boy pretty enough to almost look like the newest Wendy. He had dark curls spilling all around his head, the color indeterminate in the dark. His eyes too were cloaked in darkness but they almost seemed to shine as the boy approached him.

Peter flashed his dagger warningly, refusing to admit he was nervous as the boy approached him undaunted. "Stay away or I'll cut you!"

"No, you won't. You won't get a chance. Do you know what happened to my sister?" The boy's voice had grown cold. "She couldn't give you up. She's dead now, because you broke her heart. She couldn't bear growing up because of you and now she's dead."

"Wendy's dead? No! That can't be. She's supposed to come for spring-cleaning. She's not allowed to be dead!" Peter's confidence faltered, his knife lowering slightly.

The boy snarled, "Well she is! And you're going to pay for it! James, now!"

Peter whirled around at the sound of movement behind him - to no avail. He felt a searing, blinding pain in his head and then the world went dark.

Two boys stood over his unconscious form. The boy with brown curls looked at the still figure with cold brown eyes. He flicked his gaze to his brother, whose hair was much straighter, his brown eyes not quite as cold. "Help me carry him to the attic."

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Charlie? It seems…wrong…"

"Don't start with me. This boy is the reason our sister jumped off the school roof! Do you think he should get away with it?"

"No…"

"Then help me carry him to the attic room."

"But…what are we going to do to him? We can't just keep him…mom and dad…I knew this was a bad idea."

Charlie motioned impatiently, glaring at his brother. "Mom and dad never notice anything anymore," he said bitterly. "All we need to do is keep him quiet until he forgets how to fly…and then he'll be stuck here. Wendy never got the chance to grow up, so Peter Pan can grow up for her."

*~*~*~*

6 years later

"Captain…"

"I know, Smee. I know." Restlessly Captain Hooked tapped his namesake against panes of glass, so cold they all but shattered under the mild abuse. "He's been gone too long. It would seem that Peter Pan has abandoned Never Land." He frowned, peering through the glass and ice and the frozen wasteland that had once been his beloved sea.

His forget-me-not blue eyes were somber as he turned to regard Smee. "This simply won't do, Smee." He sighed and stared at his hook, frowning as it once more stirred up thoughts of the boy who had cut off his hand. He waited for the anger to stir, for the blinding, bitter rage to rise up and turn his vision red. When it didn't, he sighed again. Pathetic really, that he was losing his desire for revenge in the face of the boy's strange absence. But it was stupid to cling to vengeance when there was no one to focus it on. He needed Peter back. They all did.

"No, Captain. If he stays gone much longer there won't be a Never land."

Lip curling in displeasure, Hook used his left hand to shove long, thick black curls from his face. His hook tapped out a nonsense rhythm on his desk as he lost himself in thought. "How much longer, Smee?"

"Ain't no telling, really. They boy's been gone six years, by my calculation. So about two more left, I'd say. Mayhap another child will come to replace him?"

"Perhaps. I doubt it. None has ever appeared to rival Peter Pan; I highly doubt one will appear now. No…we need Peter back if we are to survive here. There is nothing for it." Slowly Hook rose to his feet, crossing his quarters to the door.

Smee gaped at him, "But Captain, you can't mean…"

Captain Hook barely spared his first mate a backward glance, "I am going to search for Peter Pan. Smee, you are in charge until I return." He paused with his hand on the door, "If I do not return, the ship is yours."

The door blew shut behind him. When Smee moved to follow, the Captain was gone. Tilting his head up to examine the depressing sight of snow-heavy cloud and relentless white pouring down upon them, Smee sighed and moved to order the men to stoke the fires. "Good luck, Captain."

Chapter One

One year later

The rain beat relentlessly down, making it nearly impossible to see the road. The view beyond his windshield was little more than a blur of grey and occasionally green where trees managed to make themselves visible through the torrential downpour.

Hook grit his teeth as he fought the rain and the winding roads. He despised the car, but getting around without one of his own had proven nearly impossible. But at last it seemed his search was coming to an end.

An entire year he'd spent searching for Peter Pan - Peter Darling now, apparently. Whatever had happened to Peter, he had clearly chosen to stay with the family of his precious Wendy. One of three brothers, no parents. At least, the descriptions he'd heard from neighbors sounded as if they were of Peter Pan.

According to those same neighbors, the boys had packed up and left for the United States shortly after the funeral of their parents. Then proceeded to move all over the blasted country. Hook was tired of it. Never had a game of 'hunt the indians' seemed more appealing. Anything but this depressing reality. It had its good points, but they were few. And he was in no mood to recall them at present.

He snarled as the car tried to spin, bringing it carefully back under his control and sitting idle a moment before forcing himself back into motion. "Blast them anyway, living up in a mountain." He continued on for several more minutes, fighting his way up and through the steep, winding roads.

At last the highway gave way to a private road, which lead to a large looping driveway in front of an impressive house.

"This is it, I guess." Hook ran a hand through his close-cropped curls as he frowned down at the piece of paper in his hands, then peered through the windshield of his care at the house before him. It was a massive brick structure, liberally treated with wide windows. Two stories and a large attic, the entirety of the structure surrounded by trees and beyond that plenty of field. A house nicely secured in the middle of nowhere. "And damnably hard to find at that."

With his right hand he pulled the keys from the ignition and shoved them into the pocket of his long, heavy coat. Frowning irritably at the cold, he flexed his stiff right hand - six months with the artificial thing and he could not grow used to it. Strange that he'd actually grown used to the hook.

"The boy had better be here. I'm weary of fruitless searching and dead ends," he muttered quietly to himself. Briskly he crossed the long, wrap around drive away and strode up the wide stairs to the front door. He rang the bell and waited patiently for someone to answer, smoothing his deep red sweater and combing his fingers through his hair again. His fingers lingered where his moustache had once been, lost along with his claw to make himself less recognizable to Peter Pan. It was strange, being a man again and not a pirate in the wilds of Never Land.

A minute later the door was thrown wide open by a young man of almost delicate prettiness. His hair was made of softer curls than Hook's own, a rich dark brown in color. His eyes were the exact same shade, and hard as they examined Hook. He was well dressed, in dark slacks and a polo shirt. It looked as if he was recently home from work. "What do you want?"

Eyebrows went up at the boy's blatant rudeness, "I was looking for a young man by the name of Peter Darling." Hook glanced down at the scrap of paper in his hands, Are you…Charles Darling?"

"What do you want with Peter?"

"I am…an old friend. I was hoping to visit him while I am in town on business. Is he here?"

"Not at the moment…" the man said slowly, "What did you say your name was?"

Hook paused, his dislike of the boy growing by the minute. "James Stuart."

"Peter doesn't know anyone by that name."

"I beg your pardon?" Hook frowned.

"I’m his guardian, and I know all his acquaintances. You're not one of them," the boys face had turned mutinous, and Hook recognized the gleam in the boy's eyes. A willingness - eagerness - to resort to violence.

Hook narrowed his own yes. "I grow tired of your rude behavior boy. I am not here to see you, I am here to speak with Peter. If you will kindly tell me where to find him, I shall leave you in peace."

"You'll not be seeing him. I don't like the look of you. Now leave before I force you off the premises."

The threat made Hook laugh, "Boy, you'll not be forcing me anywhere. I have business with Peter and I intend to see him. I've come too far to be turned away by the likes of an impertinent brat like you. Didn't your parents teach you better?"

"They might have if they'd been able," the boy snapped, voice bitter. "Now leave." He moved to close the door, but was instead throw roughly back as Hook threw his weight against and the door flew open.

Charles tripped and fell awkwardly to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with fury and a mild trace of fear. "Who are you?"

"That is none of your concern. I would like to speak with Peter." Hook said calmly as he stalked toward the boy, who stood stubbornly in place as he gazed up with wide eyes. "Where is he?"

The boy didn't reply; lips clamped firmly shut. Hook loomed over him, forget-me-not eyes facing off with dark brown. Forget-me-not won. "He's not here. Still at school." Midnight blue flashed, "What sort of trouble is he in this time? That brat is always up to something."

"Trouble?" Hook shook his head, "He is in no trouble. I wish merely to speak with him. I have not seen him for a long time, I wanted only to know he was doing well."

"He's doing fine. Doesn't need unexpected guests like you messing up his life."

"Charlie? Who was at the door?" Another young man appeared in the hallway, shoving a pair of glasses up his nose as he examined the them. "Who is that?" A brother, Hook guessed. They looked much the same, the new man a couple of years younger than the first. His hair was straight, his eyes not quite so dark. He stopped beside his brother.

Charles frowned, "Someone looking for Peter. He just forced his way inside."

"Someone for Peter? Well, what's the big deal then? He should be back soon--"

"That's not the point, James!" Charles rounded on his brother, "I've never heard of this guy before and you know Peter is supposed to tell us about everyone he associates with. I don't like this guy."

Hook chuckled, "'This guy' doesn't like you either. But seeing as Peter will be home soon, I'll be more than happy to await his return. Perhaps you boys would be kind enough to tell me how you met him?"

James pushed nervously at his glasses, "We found him on the streets, years ago. He was just wandering around lost. Are you from some agency or something? We haven't done anything, we just took him in and made him our brother. That's all, I swear it."

"Agency? No. As I said, I'm an old friend."

Charles was having none of it, "Peter doesn't have any old friends. Most certainly none like you! Now get out of our house! I'll call the police otherwise, I swear it."

"I'll leave after I've spoken with Peter. That's all I want, I swear to you."

"Charles…just let him stay. It'll be better to just let him talk to Pete. C'mon, no need to get huffy."

"Shut up." The brothers glared at each other for a long minute, Hook watching them and shaking his head.

Hook began to ask them more of the boy he'd come to find when from behind him came the sound of someone entering the house. He noted the looks on the faces of the brothers and was suddenly anxious about turning around.

"What's going on?" A soft voice asked, and Hook was unsettled by the sound of it. He turned around, curious - and felt his heart break, so wrenching was the sight before him.

There was no way, he argued widly, that the boy before him could be the frustrating, cocky, and carefree Peter Pan with whom he'd fought over and over again. It could never be the boy who had so easily taken his hand and fed it to the crocodile that Hook had dreaded for so many years.

But one look was all it took to make him realize the young man before him was Peter Pan. His hair was a hundred shades of gold, from the darkest to the lightest and every shade in between, feather soft and falling lightly around his face, kept dry by the hood he'd already shoved back off his head. His skin was pale, as if he no longer spent every waking moment outside. His eyes were the worst. Where once they had been leaf green, bright with challenge and sparkling with mischief, they were now dim and quiet. As if the youthful spirit behind them had been taken out and locked away somewhere. He was dressed in faded jeans and a green t-shirt, weighed down by shopping bags as he stared quizzically back at Hook.

Hook only just managed to avoid gaping. He had expected to find a boy who had simply been seduced at last into growing up, had finally given up on being a boy forever. But he had not expected to find this quiet, lifeless figure before him now. Peter Pan was never complacent. It just couldn't be he, "You are Peter?"

The blonde man cocked his head, "Yes…who are you?"

"He said he was an old friend. I knew he was a liar." Charles looked smugly at James.

Peter shook his head, "I am sorry. Perhaps I simply not recalling where we met? Would you mind terribly refreshing my memory?"

Hook laughed, the sound of it shaky, almost wild. "Come now, Peter. Have you truly forgotten me so thoroughly? I knew it would take you a moment, but surely you can not have forgotten your old foe so completely?"

"Old foe? What are you…" suddenly the bags Peter had been holding fell to the floor with a crash as he dropped them in shock and went stumbling fearfully back. "You can't be! It was all a dream!" Hook did gape at the sight of the tears that appeared suddenly on Peter's face as the man half-sobbed his words, "It's just Charlie playing another trick. It's not funny. Charlie, knock it off! Get away from me!" He howled in panic as he turned and vanished into the rain.

Hook spun to face the dark-haired brothers. "What have you done?" He stalked toward them, grabbing each by the throat. "What have you done to Peter Pan?"

"How…how…do…you…" James choked out, clawing futilely at Hook's fingers.

Charles had gone pale, not even bothering to struggle as he stared wide-eyed at Hook. "Old foe?" he whispered the words hoarsely. "Wendy…told us…about you…can't be…why?"

Hook threw them, displeased when both managed to rise to their feet - albeit shakily. "Captain James Hook, at your service." He bowed mockingly at them, "And now you are going to tell me what you've done to Peter Pan."