Chapter Eighteen
He didn't bother calling out her name as he flew to her side. He didn't bother pressing his ear to her chest to listen for what he already knew wasn't there. He didn't glance at Jude's body, as lifeless as Kaytee's. He only saw her blade, lined with blood, glinting on the deck beside the long dagger still clutched in Jude's dead hand. Still wet with her blood. Kaytee's blood.
It was always about her.
"Tinker Bell!" Peter screamed into the air, his voice breaking and hoarse, "Tinker Bell!"
She flashed to his side and gasped, "Oh, no... oh Kaytee..."
"Do something," Peter hissed, dropping to his knees. He turned Kaytee onto her back, flinching at the lifeless weight, and cupped her cheek, "Do something- now!"
"Peter-" Tink's voice cracked, her face broken with agony as she shook her head, "I'm not a Healer, I don't have this magic... her heart. Her heart isn't beating, Peter."
"There has to be a way," He cried out. His breath was coming in and out in short panicked breaths, "There has to! Tell me what to do!"
Tink was quiet for a second, wide eyed and taking in Kaytee's limp body, the blood pooled around them, and then her eyes met his, "Your magic. You have to use your magic, Peter. Restart her heart just long enough to bring her to the Healers."
"Restart her heart?" Peter asked incredulously, shrill confusion filling his voice, "How? I've never used my magic before, never. It always just surrounds me! I don't even feel it now!"
"Because you simply don't pay attention," Tinker Bell urged, her hands up in plea, "Listen around you, feel it inside you, Peter! It's there!"
"Just- just help me take her to the fairies!" Peter demanded, preparing to scoop Kaytee up, but Tink placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back.
"Peter, they can't do anything for a dead body," Though she hated the words, they came out urgently, desperate for him to understand, "You have to start her heart. Now! Before her brain dies with it."
It seemed like an impossible task. Peter never truly realized when his magic was brought forth. The only conscious use of it he'd ever experienced was when he had Banished Jude and when Wendy's kiss had surged strength through him-
Wait, no, Peter thought, I brought back Tink.
The memory presented itself in clear, vivid detail: Tink's lifeless body limp in his hands after she had drunk the poison left for Peter by Hook. His instincts had overtaken him, channeling the only words he could manage to strengthen his magic. It pooled life back into her.
And if he could resurrect a fairy from nothing, he could surely get a heart to pump a few more times, right? Peter closed his eyes and panted, diving back into the deep recesses of his memories. The pull in his gut, the warmth surrounding him... the warmth...
There was a tickle in the back of his mind. Tentatively, he prodded at it with his subconscious, and then-
Wham! Every source of life in Neverland burned in his mind like a beacon of warm light, thousands, millions of animals, plants, bugs, humans, all thrumming with souls and magic. He felt every single connection they held, every heartbeat, every molecule of light within them. He could feel every way they were linked to him, every instance in which their life-force was synced with his. And from them, he knew he could draw the magic.
He took a breath.
He pressed the palm of his right hand onto the back of his left, entwining the fingers. He lifted them above his head, closed his eyes, and took one deep inhale. And with the exhale, he brought the palm of his left hand down onto the center of Kaytee's chest, her shirt drenched in sticky blood that seeped over the webbing between his fingers. He drew on the life surrounding him, the magic flowing from them, through him, and into her.
A single bright pulse of light, much like that of the Healing fairies, radiated from beneath his hands, making her body jerk once, up and down. He waited to see a change. More blood began to pool from the wound of her gut. She had started to bleed again.
Her heart was beating.
Peter looked up at Tink and she nodded, "Follow me."
He scooped Kaytee up as gently and swiftly as he could, terrified of hurting her, but desperate to be fast. They flew off the ship, past the bodies on the beach and Peter's eyes raked over them, searching for the Indian chief, the boys-
"The boys!" Peter gasped, but Tink didn't slow down, and they zipped through the treeline.
"They survived just fine," Tinker Bell assured him, "When we get Kaytee there, I'll come back for them."
"Where is there?" Peter said, relief momentarily slipping into his stomach, but it didn't last long. A small puddle of blood was pooling onto Kaytee's abdomen, seeping through Peter's clothes like warm water. A thick, metallic smell wafted up to him and he swallowed, his vision blurring with nausea and tears.
"The Sanctuary," Tinker Bell said just loud enough for him to hear, her wings buzzing, "I told you the morning after the fire- it's one of the most sacred places in Neverland... It's where the first fairies were born and where they made the first fairy dust."
Confusion filled Peter. He knew every inch of this island and had never been to such a place, "I don't understand. Why have I never found it?"
"Only a fairy can lead you there. There's never been a reason for you to go there. Until now." She said and sure enough, a white light began to glow ahead. The trees were taller, thicker, older than any tree Peter knew of in Neverland. The familiar sound of fairy chimes began to fill the air. Then they were met with a thick white wall, appearing to be a substance like ice or glass, a small glittering mountain.
"This is it." Tink said, halting just before the wall and pressed her hand to the wall. A doorway just big enough for them to get through opened and they flew in, the temperature dropping twenty degrees.
Inside was a cavern of the same white ice-like substance, sparkling and pure. In the walls were thousands of compartments filled with fairies. The ground of the cavern was riddled with steaming pools, some the size of Peter's fist, other's the length of a car or bus. At the center of the biggest pool hovered the three Healing Fairies, along with five others.
"Please," Peter begged, clutching Kaytee to his chest, her head lolling onto his shoulder, "I've restarted her heart with my magic, but I can do nothing more. I think she was stabbed through the stomach." Even as he said the words, they could feel her heart begin to slow again, stuttering, fumbling. Her blood was slipping down his legs, plinking off his toes in a steady stream.
"Set her down." Thomas replied calmly, "Just on the edge."
Peter did so, the blood brighter and more prominent as it spilled onto the sparkling white ground. Though it appeared to be frosted ice, it wasn't cold. Peter imagined it was what fog would feel like if it were solid. All three Healers placed their hands on Kaytee, one at her forehead, two at her ankles, like they had over a couple weeks ago after Jude kidnapped her. Had it really only been so short a time?
Thomas, Garret, and Eleazar only took a second to diagnose this time and when they were done, they didn't say anything except lift their hands.
"Remove her clothes with haste." Garret urged, his expression grim. Peter's stomach dropped with anxiety.
Peter helped the five other fairies pull off Kaytee's blood drenched clothes, grimacing at the large, oozing hole in her stomach. When she was naked, he looked up to the fairies, awaiting the next step.
"The silk, please." Eleazer held out a hand, beckoning. Ten more fairies flew over a length of spider silk just long enough to wrap around her chest and hips.
"Everyone, if you will ever so softly." Thomas said gently, and with Peter's hands hovering just an inch from her body, unsure, Kaytee was urged over the surface of the pool and lowered. For a moment, she stayed suspended on the surface before she began to sink, the sparkling liquid covering her body.
"No, she'll drown!" Peter cried, about to jump in, but three fairies pushed him back away from the edge.
"Peter, it isn't water, it is fairy dust!" Thomas assured him, settling on the edge of the pool and watching Kaytee sink further down onto the distant floor.
"What?" Peter gasped and then batted the fairies away so he could peer down, her form murky and clouded by the swirling substance, "This is a pool... of dust?"
"This place is where we store our most sacred magic," Eleazar said, settling next to Peter, "The dust here is what we use to command our healing. Submerging her in it completely was the only way to restore the blood she lost."
"The dust will merge with her body and give to it new life," continued Garret, next to Thomas, "We are very sure of this."
Peter's eyes were fixed to the cloudy serenity upon Kaytee's pale face down below. Her hair, loose from its usual restraints, floated listlessly around her head, like she truly was floating in water.
"This will save her?" Peter whispered, reaching forward to touch the dust, and then pulling back, not wanting to dirty it anymore with his hands.
"No, Peter, your magic is what saved her." Thomas said gently, his kind face looking up earnestly, "We are only finishing what you started."
"From what we could tell, if she had lasted any longer without fresh blood being pumped into her brain," Eleazar shook his head and shuddered, "There would've been no chance of recovery. But your ability to restart her heart very much gave her the only prayer she had."
Peter sat back and placed his head into his hands, ignoring the sticky feel of Kaytee's blood still on his skin. The wetness of his clothes was beginning to cool and he shivered."How long? How long until she wakes up?"
"We can't be sure. As she heals, she'll slowly rise to the surface and emerge when she is fully recovered. Certainly, it will be days," Thomas whispered, but then stronger he said, "But she will wake up, Peter. That I can promise you."
There was silence for a while, and then a rumble made Peter peer up into the sky. Purple clouds were forming across the whole of the sky, threatening, cold, consuming.
Tink was at his side then, "Peter? We should get back to the beach. The Lost Boys need you more than Kaytee, now. She'd want you to be with them."
And Tink was right. If Kaytee was awake, she'd be shoving him away, demanding Tink drag him straight back to the beach. With one more glance down into the murky dust, he stood.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." Peter said. Thomas hovered close to Peter's face and threw a handful of pink dust onto his forehead.
"Now you can find this place on your own." Thomas said, "We will watch over her."
Peter nodded and with Tink leading, they flew back to the beach.
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The summary of the battle, as recalled by Nibs, went like this: It lasted approximately fifteen minutes. The pirates, though well stocked in numbers and weapons, were weak and sick from hunger and fatigue. They fell easily, especially after scores of them had been blinded by the mauling birds. What the archers didn't finish off were easily overtaken by the Indians and Lost Boys. There were no fatalities on their end. Not even a black eye.
"It was like they were decoys," Nibs shook his head in disbelief, watching the black smoke rise into the sky. "Even Jude's lads."
After the battle ended, they had piled the spent bodies onto the decrepit Jolly Roger, loaded the deck with kindling, and turned it out to the middle of the water. With a volley of burning arrows, it went up in flames, effectively ending any trace or word of Captain James Hook and his followers.
"That's because they were," Peter muttered, turning over Kaytee's sword in his hands, retrieved from the ship before it was set out to sea, "Hook told me as much. It was always about killing Kaytee. After they had kidnapped her, they realized how important she was to me. What good is killing me if I don't suffer as much as they had?" Peter sneered, "So they went after the only thing that would've destroyed me: Ending her life. And they very nearly succeeded. We played right into their trap." He kicked at the sand, sending a spray of grain into the wind. It had picked up again, swirling around them as fiercely as the dark clouds in the sky. Goosebumps tightened along Peter's arms and he rubbed them for warmth.
"It's pouting," Peter grumbled at the dark sky, and Nibs frowned, confused, "Neverland. She's upset Kaytee's-" Peter cleared his throat, "That she's unwell."
"Aren't we all?" Slightly sighed, his young face sagging in fatigue and worry, "But she'll be alright, yeah? Those fairies know a thing or two."
"Sure do." Tootles nodded, agreeing with Slightly for the first time ever, "Mother will be right as rain soon."
But the days that passed didn't reveal any change. She stayed firmly on the bottom of the pool, listless, floating. From what they could tell, peering through the foggy glass of the surface, her face wasn't as pale and the gash on her stomach had sealed, leaving an angry pink circle of fresh skin. But she didn't rise, nor did she wake.
And Neverland raged on. The sun would rarely peek out from the purple clouds, and when it did, the light was concentrated, making random patches of trees catch on fire. The animals still hadn't come out of hiding and those dependent on their meat were forced to use their emergency reserves set aside for only the most unprecedented catastrophe.
Complaints started coming in to Peter, those seeking his guidance: Mermaids losing their gift of foresight, fairies having difficulty controlling any element from water to animals, sometimes even just flying was a chore, Indians unable to keep the embers of their fires from sizzling out, their elders were growing ill. The very foundations of the island were raging in protest to Kaytee's damaged state. And Peter could do nothing, for even his magic had started to wane.
Perched in a tree, he glared up at the churning sky with distaste. He was rather irked by the behavior of his island. Surely the fact that he was still alive should console it somewhat. And didn't it know Kaytee would recover?
His tree swayed in the harsh wind, ripping the leaf he had been turning over in his fingers out of his hand and he sighed. All he could hear with the rustle of the branches, the creaking of the wood... and his name?
He sat up and peered around the trunk. Heading towards him was the tell-tale glow of Tinker Bell, flying as fast as she could, yelling his name. He leaped up and held out his hand for her to land in. She collapsed into his palm, panting.
"Peter!" She gasped, and then pointed towards the center of the island, "It's happening! She's rising!"
And as he jumped off the branch, sprinting into the air with Tink on his shoulder, he realized with awe: the birds had begun to sing.