My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

35. Tinkerbell's Revenge

Pan groaned in the dark. He was pinned beneath the weight of Tinkerbell, with the roar from the blast still ringing in his ears. He attempted to shove Tink off him and that was when he saw the piece of doorway that had driven into her chest – splitting her torso open. Shifting around, he twisted so that he could see Tinkerbell's face.

Her breathing was ragged – each breath an immense, groaning effort. Pan's gaze slowly surveyed the extent of her injuries. 

"You shielded me," he murmured – in a state of disbelief. It was silent in the wreckage – Pan couldn't hear any other survivors. "Why?" Tears welled in his eyes as he felt her body going limp. "Why, Tink?"

Tinkerbell's eyes closed, her lips resting in a final small, secret smile. "Why?" But she was gone. 

The water nymph had died – in the dark - deep beneath the ground. 

Pan caressed her face reverentially. "I'm sorry, Tink." And tears slid down his boyish face. He'd broken her body so long ago – mangling her legs in punishment – he hadn't expected to ever see her again.

Letting go of her face, he wriggled free from beneath her. The debris shifted around them and rumbled ominously. Pan tensed, realising that a further cave in could crush him. He held very still – waiting for the dust to settle. A hand protruded from the rubble close by. As the rocks shifted - Pan realised that it was a hand without a body. 

The rocks settled and Pan crawled toward an open space. 

A narrow slice of daylight shone down in the dark and Pan craned his neck. High, high above him - was a tiny opening to freedom. He coughed, the dust stinging his eyes and the back of his throat. There wasn't a minute to waste - he needed to get out from there. 

Pan bent his legs and attempted to fly. Only he couldn't. He couldn't fly.

The stark realisation hit him hard. Why couldn't he fly? He hunched over, coughing violently as dark flakes of dust spiralled lazily down over him. Who had done this to him?

                Behind him, Tinkerbell's face was angled upwards – her smile in death still visible. Pan had been wrong to think that she'd sacrificed herself for love. She'd betrayed him. She told the truth when she'd directed Hook and Wendy on how to clip Pan's wings. The wings had been her gift to Pan – and she'd been very happy to rob him of that gift.

Her only issue had been the bomb that Hook and Wendy had kept from her. She hadn't liked this method of execution. She hadn't wanted Pan to die so soon. He had to suffer first. She'd shielded him from the blast so that he'd live. So that he'd live to feel the parting blow she'd struck at him. Her final thought had been one of triumph - 

Pan, I've killed your Wendy Bird.

**

Wendy stood on deck of The Cleverness. Around her, the Lost Boys were a riot of confusion. Slightly had taken charge and was trying to organise a rescue team to uncover the hideout and search for Pan. The hostage children were being jostled about and barked at. Wendy swayed unsteadily, her vision swimming in and out of focus. She took deep breaths, trying not to panic.

The little boy, dripping sea water at her side, tugged on her shirt – having noticed something strange.