Hook and Angela: A New Story of Neverland (ON HIATUS)

𝒜 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂?

ℐt was a new day. The formidable Jolly Roger bobbed over the Neverland seas, anchored after sailing a long way from home. Sailors were climbing the masts and tying things down, some were scrubbing the deck, and a few were sitting playing card games and drinking. Light from the pale sun bore down upon them. The sea was cold and gray, and the sky was a shade of periwinkle. It is said that Neverland absorbed the emotions of Peter Pan, and that the nature shifted in accordance to his state of being. Alas, this wasn't the Neverland of Wendy and Jane's day—this Neverland was different.

What used to be a lush, green wonderland bustling with life was now a darkened, silent landscape. Black rocks lined the shores and the sand had a pale color. Many trees were bare, and the ones that weren't had dark green leaves. There were hardly any flowers. Still, the crew on the Jolly Roger soldiered on with their daily duties, while a lone bohemian sea dog sang a shanty with his accordion.

The pale sunlight and the distant sounds of the pirate song barely registered on the senses of poor Angela, who had been out cold since leaving for Neverland. She turned her head to the other side, feeling fluffy pillows and soft linen sheets, and then laid on her back. Her brown eyes slowly opened, blinking a couple of times before they adjusted on the wooden ceiling of the Captain's cabin.

An excited voice in the background said, "She's awake, Cap'n!"

Captain James Hook turned to Smee, who had been nursing Angela back to health, and rose from his desk, making his way quickly towards her.

She had no idea where she was and blinked in confusion, lifting her head and frowning to focus her blurry vision on the approaching figure of James Hook.

"You ..." she began, but trailed off. She was in such a weak haze that she didn't feel any strong emotions of panic. Everything was nebulous, like she was in a dream. She tried to sit up from the bed to no avail.

"I apologize for the other night, milady," Hook said with a slight bow, standing at the edge of the bed. "Believe me, I am truly relieved you've come to."

"Who are you ...?" she muttered, looking up at him. She noticed the hook that replaced his right hand. Normally, she would've felt fear, or at least suspicion, but the man approached her so gently and had such genteel manners that he didn't spook her. His voice flowed like a sweet dark honey.

He smiled a curious smile at the question.

"Ah, where are my manners? I'm James Hook, captain of the Jolly Roger," he began, then gestured at the chubby old man in the corner. "And that over there is my bo'sun, Smee." Smee waved at the girl with a big smile on his face.

"You're a character in my grandma Wendy's book ..." she faintly said, her body so weak that the words were just spilling out. His forget-me-not blue eyes gave her a look of intrigue. "She wrote about you ... you were the villain in the story ... you fought Peter Pan and were eaten by the crocodile ..." she seemed to laugh at the last part.

"Darling, do you think this is a dream?" he asked her with concern.

She smiled at him weakly and nodded, feeling inexplicably relaxed. The Captain looked at the beautiful young woman laying on his bed, who was closing her eyes again drowsily.

"Smee, get her some water," he ordered. "Then bring the girl some food." She needed to regain her strength.

Aye, it was true. After Wendy Darling grew up and married a man named Edward, she followed her childhood dreams of becoming a novelist, albeit only part-time, for her time was mostly occupied with taking care of her children Jane and Daniel. Though she wrote a few novels, the only one she ever published was "The Boy Who Never Grew Up"—under a pen name, of course. The book sold and spread like wildfire—it was her one and only magnum opus. At this point in time, the boy or girl who hadn't heard of Peter Pan would've been rare. The royalties from the book were enough to give Wendy and her descendants a life of comfort. However, the most mystifying part, may I add, was that to the rest of the world, Peter Pan was just a story—and Angela was part of this world. So then, if Wendy and Jane knew it was real and had lived it, why hadn't Angela? Why wasn't Angela taken to Neverland during the winter of her childhood like the rest of the Darling girls? A mystery indeed.

Smee returned moments later with a mug and a pitcher filled with water, proud of himself. "Here, Cap'n, I brought the lass some water."

"What about the food?" Hook said, taking the mug from him.

"Oh—right away, Cap'n." Smee disappeared behind the cabin door. It was just the two of them now.

"I hope you don't mind me sitting here," Hook said and sat down beside her. She opened her eyes and was about to say something until she finally caught a good look of the captain's face.

He hadn't been wearing his large red hat, so his face was clearly visible now. It was also daytime, so her eyes could take in every detail of his rugged yet fine masculine beauty.

He had a gracile face, his skin taut and slightly sun-beaten, but without taking away his elegance. She saw his long black curls spilling over his broad shoulders, framing his face stylishly, and noticed yet again his piercing pale blue eyes that held a strong gaze. He had expressive brows and a slightly aquiline nose, and sported a goatee.

"I need you to drink this," Hook said, and brought the mug close to her.

Angela paused and smiled, still thinking this was a dream. "I know you tried to poison Peter Pan ... you can't trick me."

Hook raised an eyebrow at her. Then without a word, he drank noticeably from the mug, not breaking eye contact. Angela stared at him in a combination of expectancy and bewilderment, and when he finished, he shrugged and said, "It's just water," with a smirk.

She finally trusted him, at least in this regard, and drank from the mug. Her mouth and stomach thanked her, and she instantly wanted more. She didn't realize how parched she was until that moment. Hook noticed how quickly she drank, and poured her another mug full of water.

"Thank you," she said after finishing her second glass, her voice becoming stronger.

"No need to thank me, my dear," he replied. He then waited for her reaction.

Angela slowly realized that she had indeed drank something. Smee then walked in carrying a plate with chicken, creamed potatoes, and a vegetable curry. The physical smell of the delicious food woke her up even more, and it wasn't until she took a hesitant bite from the meal that she asked,

"This isn't a dream, is it?"

"No," answered Hook with a smile.