all this has happened before

[lost_boy]

We were running. Running from Peter. Running toward the pirates.

It hadn't been difficult to convince the others this was our best option, not after all Peter had done. They knew now, they had seen what he was like, they'd been viewed under the cold, dismissive gaze of Peter Pan and understood he thought nothing of them. Of us. Because I may have been his favourite once, but it was clear I was too grown up, too close to being a man to be loved by him any longer.

I knew that had upset me once, but now, surrounded by my friends, running toward other friends, I didn't feel that same sense of loss that I had before. As with Charlie and Sal and Nod, I was choosing these good people, people I loved, and I was turning my back on Peter.

We crossed the Island, skirting the plans with the Many-Eyed, taking the path up into the mountains, toward Bear Cave, and then beyond. I paused at the cave, remembering Harry and his death here, but only for a moment. I had learned long ago how to mourn my friends while on the move and today was no different. My other friends needed me now, they needed me to lead them to safety away from Peter.

Leading the way down the mountain path, past the Marking Rock, I could see the camp and the cove in the distance, the shipped docked where it usually was when the pirates weren't away, raiding whatever places they were able to find. And I could see people. Pirates, yes, but familiar faces, too, and I picked up my pace, hurrying the others toward them.

[Coming together post! Gathering, as usual, Jamie and everyone who was with him at the tree is going to come to the pirate camp/the Jolly Roger, so feel free to have threads that take place on the ship or on the shore at the camp. Also feel free to employ fairies if you like, they'll be spying for Peter, who'll be coming soon enough. In a few days I'll post a second top level for Jamie and Peter's big final fight where Jamie will be losing his right hand.]

Comments

[lost_boy]

"Elio!" I called as I ran, desperate to leave Peter and the Many-Eyed behind us. "Magnus!"

I could see others, too. Eowyn and Ellie and Aggie. Familiar, welcome faces, although I wished I could have come for them sooner. Through speaking with Daine, I had known they were here, but it wasn't as easy to get away from Peter as just leaving. He was always watching and if I had tried to go before now, I knew I would have only invited danger and possible injury to the people who had been with me. Now there was no choice. Not with the way Peter had attacked me.

I jumped over a fallen log, turning back to help others, then made for the camp. My shouts had drawn attention, not only that of my friends, but of the pirates, too, and I could see them glancing between me and Elio. Too late I realized my mistake. They had thought Elio was me and that might have been what was keeping everyone safe.

"It's Jamie!" one of the pirates shouted. I recognized him. He wore an eyepatch and I had been the one to take his eye. "There's two of him! It's that boy's magic again!"

I didn't know what was happening, if we would be welcomed or not, but I knew I had to get to my friends.

[eddie_spaghetti]

He and Elio had gone to shore, but learned soon enough that venturing deeper into the island was more dangerous than either of them could handle. Instead, the goodwill, or maybe fearful and grudging respect, of the pirates was the only thing they had to fall back on, and as the beach was suddenly stormed by kids-- familiar faces, all of them friends, most of them terrified and breathless and streaked with dirt, Eddie knew they might all be in trouble again.

"Whoa, hey, everybody calm the fuck down!" Eddie shouted, and the only reason his voice didn't break was because he'd apparently left puberty behind like three decades ago. There was a sword at his hip, an actual sword, and he rested his hand on the hilt, already knowing that he'd hurt anyone who tried to touch Jamie.

"Holy shit, I thought we weren't going to be able to find you," he said, wobbly and breathless as he took a step towards him, forgetting about the growing crowd of pirates and all of their friends, and about the fact that he looked like some random forty-year-old man as he lurched forward to throw his arm around Jamie's neck.

[lost_boy]

There was a strange grown man hugging me.

He was nearly the same height as me, handsome and strong in a wiry sort of way, but I knew I didn't recognize him and I knew he couldn't be a pirate, because the pirates never would have hugged me. I had killed far too many of them. Taken the right hands of too many others. The pirates hated me almost as much as they hated Peter and I knew I was taking a risk coming here, but I felt the risk was worth it. I just had think about it now, about what I was going to do next.

All that was rather difficult with this strange man hugging me, though.

"It's all right," I said, awkwardly patting his back. Briefly I wondered if this was a trap, but the pirates weren't advancing. They were staring, watching us warily, but I didn't think this was meant to be an attack. "I... you'll be all right."

[speakordie]

When I see Jamie burst through the trees, my first reaction is utter relief. It's good to see him and know he's okay, but finally finding Jamie presents an entirely knew problem, and my stomach drops as Jamie's cry makes several of the pirates turn towards me, swords in hand.

"Elio? Elio?" One of them says, and I shoot Jamie a desperate look as I take a stumbling step backward in the sand. "You're not even him! You've been playing us!"

"To be fair, you never asked my name," I say as I hold up both of my hands in surrender. This doesn't seem to soothe them, and I let out a yelp as I back away. "Jamie! A little help!"

[lost_boy]

How I wished I had my sword, but that was easily remedied, especially when all of this had happened before. Not in this particular way, not with people like Elio, people I cared about and would do anything to protect, but it was close enough to a raid on the pirate camp that when I moved, it seemed as it my body had been transported back in time and everything just fell into place.

As Elio stepped back, I stepped forward and, knife in hand, I moved in a flash and cut the belt of the nearest pirate. In a second I was holding his scabbard and then I drew out the sword and held it steadily, the end pointed at the pirates who were advancing on Elio. I realized with a start that I recognized some of them. Will, who had left the boys so long ago that he seemed to have aged twenty years, and Georgie, who had grown a beard so long it nearly touched his belt. Why hadn't I recognized them before? Had Peter blinded me so much?

"Don't," I warned them, sword in one hand, dagger in the other. I looked at Elio, met his gaze, tried to communicate everything would be all right. "We're not here for trouble. We left Peter. These are my friends. We need somewhere safe to be."

[high_warlock]

"Oh, balls."

The secret now out, Magnus decides there's no reason to pretend to be anything other than what he is as well. Not that he had been shy exactly about his magic, as it usually did a rather intimidating job. But he hadn't been showboating either.

But if the pirates decided to have an issue with two Jamies running about, Magnus could handle it. Sure of that, he runs towards the young man, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a good look over.

"Are you all alright? Did he hurt you?"

[lost_boy]

I was so glad to see Magnus and even though I knew it might put him in danger if Peter saw, I threw my arms around his waist and hugged him tight. It probably made it more difficult for him to take stock of my injuries, but I needed the hug more than I needed medical attention. My friends had been so good and so strong, they had stood up for me and protected me, but it wasn't the same as being hugged by a grown up. I needed that, too.

I was so lucky, I realized, to have all these different sorts of friends.

"We're okay," I said a moment later. "He tried to attack me, but everyone..." I smiled, the expression a little watery. "They helped. Eponine jumped in with her knife, and Beverly and Stan threw rocks at him. None of them hesitated."

[shieldmaiden_rohan]

Eowyn had not awoken in this place of Corsairs-who-were-not with her sword, but she had obtained one since her arrival. She had been glad of that sword when they encountered the creatures that were here called the Many-Eyed. They reminded her of the tale of a large spider demon in the Ephel Duath, one which she hoped never to confirm to be true.

She stood guard outside the camp they had established on the shore with steel in her spine and on her hip. If any threatened those who were within the camp, she would defend them.

[lost_boy]

I was bruised, a little battered, all of it from Peter, but I had never felt as relieved as I had when I burst down from the mountain path and saw all these familiar faces. After reuniting with Eddie, I had done my best to speak with some of the pirates and I believed there was a reluctant truce beginning.

They were without a captain, they told me. Will had been the one to tell me. Will, who I had played with twenty years ago. Will, who had been banished because he began to grow up. So many of the boys were here and now I recognized in them what had begun happening to me before I'd come to Darrow. We had stopped loving Peter. We had started to become men.

I was glad to see them, but I was glad to see my Darrow friends even more, and when I spotted Eowyn, I hurried toward her. "Hi," I said breathlessly. "Are you well? Have they hurt you?"

[shieldmaiden_rohan]

"I am well," she assured him. "They have not hurt me. But you, you are bruised. Need you anything?"

The pirates had, at first, been unsure of how to behave around her, but she had bested one of them in a test of swordsmanship, and then they had been more respectful. It was the pirate she had bested whose sword she carried, in fact, which she had earned through skill at arms.

[ithastobeseven]

Eponine had told him to stay still or find an adult he knows. He doesn't actually know the blonde woman with the sword, the way he knows John or Martin or Michael or Alex. But he's seen her a couple times, at the stables that he always wants to show Nell and just around, and she has a sword, like a real pirate or a warrior princess or something, and he thinks he might want to be near someone with a sword.

"Hi," he says, tentatively, and looks up at her. "Um. Can I stand with you?"

[ghost_holder]

When she first woke up, Aggie had observed that the island looked unreal, like someone's funpark version of a place. In some ways, she still thinks that, but she's also seen that the island is not so benevolent as that. There are wicked creatures and hungry monsters, whose presence is almost a relief. Better to know the dangers of the place rather than persist in a false sense of safety.

Monsters, Aggie is good at fighting. It comes of having been one herself. It keeps her wary as she sits by the campfire. The crack of a branch makes her stand, spinning around with her hands up, power surging to her fingertips.

"Stop!"

[forthsofar]

As they ran, Rosie had tried to stay as close as possible to the people she knew and the others from Darrow, neither wanting to outpace them and get lost or lag behind and be forgotten--or worse. It had worked for a time, adrenaline and terror fueling the thud of her feet along the forest floor, but before long she tired, falling further and further behind until she found herself well out of shouting distance. Swallowing back a helpless little cry, she looks around, trying her best not to think about everything that might be waiting for her in the shadows of the trees or behind a rock.

When she spots firelight nearby, her feet start moving towards it before her head can catch up enough to warn her that this might be a terrible idea. The snap of the branch sounds almost like a gunshot, and when the person sitting by the fire wheels around with something almost electric crackling in their hands, Rosie lets out a strangled, frightened yelp. "I'm not dangerous! I promise, I'm..." She blinks once, then again. "Aggie?"

[lost_boy]

"Aggie, it's me," I said quickly, slightly out of breath from my run down from the mountain trail. It was such a relief to see her, to know there was someone like her here on the Island, someone the likes of which I knew Peter had never seen.

And it was a relief to see her safe.

"There are a bunch of us coming," I added, coming closer. "We woke up back in the tree where I spent most of my time. With Peter. I think... I think anyone under eighteen woke up there and anyone over woke up with the pirates."

[lost_boy]

Peter had come for us. He had come for us all.

I wasn't surprised, I had known it was coming, he would never be able to stay away when every single one of us left him behind, but even so, I wasn't really prepared for it. I wasn't sure anyone was. Telling people what Peter was like had been easy enough and I felt like my friends understood, especially those who had seen him now, but then suddenly he was there, a laughing boy with sandy hair, a bright smile, and round cheeks. He looked as much like a fairy as I imagined the little ones did if they ever stopped flitting around his head.

And he was flying. Set against the bright sunlight that streamed across the water, he looked like an angel coming in to save us all, but I knew what his real intentions were. Even without the sword in his hand, I would have known.

"I loved you, Jamie!" Peter called as he came over us all, hovering there in the air with his sword flashing in the sun. "The Island loved you and it would have protected you. It would have kept you young forever, but you stopped loving me! You stopped believing." He paused, staring down at me in disgust. "You grew up."

"I did!" I called back at him. "I did grow up, Peter. I grew up and I learned how awful you truly are. How cruel and heartless and selfish! I don't want to be like that, Peter, like you. I never did!"

I had hurt him, I could see it, but I didn't care. He gave a cry of anger, done with speaking, then flew at me, but I had my own sword and it came up in a flash, clanging against Peter's as he tried to bring it down upon my head.

We fought and clashed, our swords ringing. Peter laughed cruelly as he flew in circles overhead, refusing to come down. I had had this fight before and I knew what I needed to do, but the rock that flew at him suddenly wasn't my own. It took him by surprise, both the rock itself and that anyone was daring to help me, and he cried out again when the rock clipped his shoulder. It threw off the trajectory of his flight and he tumbled to the side, low enough that I could grab his arm and yank him down.

Peter hit the ground with a crack, but he didn't let go of his sword and he was up again in an instant, matching me blow for blow. He had taught me how to fight, he knew me better than almost anyone, but I had learned a lot in my time away from him. I slashed at him, cutting his arm, and the Island soaked up his blood, as it always had.

I knew I couldn't kill him. I just had to beat him.

It was a pirate who distracted me. A mistake, nothing more, I knew it hadn't been done on purpose, but he stepped closer, too close, and I worried suddenly it was Eddie. When I glanced in that direction it was the opening Peter needed. His sword slashed out again, the blade going beyond mine, too close to my body I realized, and then it cut clean through my right wrist.

My sword dropped to the ground. My hand dropped with it. Blood sprayed and I stared in shock at what had been done to me. It was the same thing I had done to some of the pirates in the past, it was my signature, and Peter knew it. My stomach turned and I thought I might throw up, but I didn't.

Instead, as I stared and shivered and swayed, the edges of my vision began to go black.

[This is it! Get involved in the fight, be the one who threw the rock, be a witness, help Jamie in the aftermath, jump in at whatever point you'd like. It's up to you if Peter gives up or keeps on fighting if you'd like to chase him off. The fight will always end with Jamie losing his hand, however, so that can't be stopped. >:D]

[speakordie]

When I see Peter swooping in, it takes me a moment to get rid of the idea I had of Peter Pan in my head. I was never too fond of the character, but I didn't really think him to be a villain, either. Captain Hook was the villain, because that's how it was written.

But there are two sides to every story, and I know Jamie. I love Jamie as if he were my family. We're brothers, he and I, and I don't care if he was meant to be a villain in some other version of this story in some other world. It isn't going to happen here.

It's an absurd moment of bravery that makes me throw the rock, but I want Peter to know that Jamie isn't alone. It's just the pirates and the other lost boys, but other people who are here and ready to fight. Peter's attention turns on me and I can see the way his eyes light up with a sort of a vicious glee, like he's happy to see another Jamie but certainly not in any way that I would appreciate.

I watch he and Jamie fight, swords clashing, and my heart pounds as I stand there helplessly. I just stand there, useless, and when Jamie's hand falls to the ground it takes me a moment to recognize it as something real. It's so awful, so gruesome, that surely it must be a trick my brain is playing on me.

But no, it's terribly, viscerally real.

My brain lurches back to life and I stumble forward, crying out in agony at the sight before me. Jamie is bleeding and Peter is laughing, bitter and cruel, and my stomach roils as I lean down to pick up Jamie's sword.

"You want to fight?" Peter taunts as I stand in front of Jamie and hold the sword out with a trembling arm. "I could make you really match."

"Fuck off!" It's the only thing I can think of to say. "You evil, whiny little brat! I never liked you anyway!"

Peter's still laughing, but he doesn't seem to be coming after me. It doesn't matter if he is, because Jamie sinks to the sand behind me and I drop the sword to turn and catch him, vision blurred with tears as I pull the shirt over my head.

"Hey, hey. It's gonna be okay," I murmur, and I try not to think about how this might be some turning point, how it may be the catalyst between Jamie being good and being a villain, but I can't let that distract me right now. I wrap my shirt around-- god, the bloody stump of his arm-- as gently as I can manage. His blood stains my skin and there's so much of it, too much of it, but I can't let myself panic. "We're gonna stop the bleeding and it's gonna be fine, okay?"

[forthsofar]

Since their hurried departure from Peter's tree and subsequent reunion with the others from the pirate ship, Rosie's been doing what she can to help wherever she's able--tending the fire, chopping vegetables in the ship's galley, keeping a careful eye out for any of Peter's other creatures that might mean them harm. Most nights, she falls asleep exhausted and sunburnt, her hair a tangle from the salt air, hoping that when she wakes it'll be in her own bed once more.

When every morning there's the sound of waves and gulls rather than the hum of traffic, it gets a little harder to believe she ever will.

She's on her way back to the camp, some kindling carefully bundled in a strip of old sailcloth, when she hears the sound of shouting up ahead. Though she doesn't fight--wouldn't know how, always preferring to make up in shouting what she lacks in physical presence--she still picks up her pace, hurrying down the trail towards the clearing. When she's close enough to hear the clang of metal on metal, she even starts to run.

That added speed gets her close enough to see when it happens. When that idiot steps in Jamie's way, when Peter takes the opening it provides him, when his sword flashes out, sweeping in a horrible downward arc until--

Rosie doesn't even know she's screaming until the sound's already left her mouth. If Peter hears it, he pays it no mind, flying off with another cold and tinkling laugh as Jamie drops to his knees. Her vision swims, her head reels, but Rosie makes herself keep moving, running towards him rather than away.

[ghost_holder]

Aggie's no stranger to blood and death but it still turns her stomach at the sight of Jamie and the other boy, Peter. It's one thing to see blood from a chicken made ready for the pot and another to see it coming out of the place where her friend's hand ought to be. Queasiness get kicked away by adrenaline, which is in turn replaced by anger.

Lightning crackles out of her fist and Aggie storms forward, putting herself between Peter and Jamie. "How's this for pixie dust?" She hurls her power right at Peter but doesn't stop to see the damage.

"Jamie," she says, wrapping an arm around him. "Jamie!"

[eddie_spaghetti]

Eddie Kaspbrak was screaming.

It sounded more like a roar. He was screaming, hurtling himself forward on legs that were still unfamiliar. He saw nothing but red. Red for blood, red for the rage pounding in his head. He screamed, dropping to his knees and skidding across the sand, Jamie's fallen sword in his hand before he had a chance to think twice about it. At any other moment, he might've considered just how badass the move was. He might've grinned, looking to Richie for approval— Did I look cool?

But instead, he was on his feet again, charging at Peter Pan, the sword embedding itself in the young boy's stomach, through and through. It wouldn't kill him. Peter Pan wasn't a boy at all, and Eddie knew none of them would ever be so lucky. But there was one perfect moment where Pan's eyes were wide and frightened, tearful as he stared up at Eddie in disbelief.

That one perfect moment gave all the rest of them a chance to swarm on their enemy, and the fight was on for real.

Eddie swayed, turning back to where Jamie had fallen, a rough sob caught in his throat. He dropped to his knees again, shrugging out of the heavy pirate coat he wore and tearing one of his puffy sleeves off at the shoulder. "Okay, you're okay," he promised, voice trembling as he wrapped the cloth around the bleeding stump of Jamie's wrist.

[a_regular_bitch]

Lisbeth has had enough of this little flying fucker.

She's not in time to stop him from taking Jamie's hand off, but she's not about to let him finish the job. As she'd seen them begin to fight, she'd climbed up ropes and beams and sails until she'd found a place the little shit kept flying past. When that same little shit float up from where he's maimed Jamie, Lisbeth jumps.

Lisbeth Salander is not capable of flight, but she has an excellent sense for calculation. She lands on the child's back, and whether they fall or continue to move, she's reaching around for his eyes, intending to claw them out, her fingers hooked into talons.

[underthefloor]

She's too far away to intervene, to try and help Jamie fight this flying menace. In an effort to do something, anything, she picks up a rock and hurls it at Peter before taking off running in Jamie's direction.

She doesn't make it in time.

Horror slides across her face as Jamie loses his hand, but she keeps charging forward, here expression closing into one of rage. She lets out a scream of anger and aggression, and once she's close enough to not miss she screeches to a halt, planting her foot before taking aim and hurling her sword right at Peter all in a matter of seconds. She knows the blade will find its mark, but she doesn't wait to see what damage it might do. She wants to kill Peter, but she's more concerned about getting to Jamie.

She reaches him as he slumps to the ground and drops to her knees beside him, already peeling off her top shirt to reveal the tank top underneath. "Jamie, hey, hey," she says, quietly urgent, doing her best to hoist him against her so she can wrap up his arm, bleeding where his hand once was. "Stay with me, okay? I need you to stay awake. We've got to get this bleeding stopped. You're gonna be okay."

[runtowardsomething]

She isn't afraid until she is. That's the way things always work, of course, not least when bravery is a tenuous, inconsistent thing. She wasn't afraid of that fucking clown when It took her, having faced so much worse than whatever It intended to do, which ultimately wasn't very much at all. She wasn't all that afraid of Bowers and his gang, either, despite all the reasons she would have had to be. Inside the walls of her apartment, though, that courageous veneer always crumpled, having long since been gradually worn away, leaving so little left. It feels sort of like that now, watching the battle, like a switch flips in her head, taking her from confident and brave and so angry to something entirely the opposite.

In her defense, Jamie losing a fucking hand seems like a good reason to be afraid.

She wants to yell and scream and fight back like she did before, still remembering the satisfying crack when her rock hit Peter's head. She wants to hurt him for hurting her friend, to let him know what happens when he fucks with the Losers Club, to tell him that what he's describing isn't love at all. It's something sick and toxic, born of a need to control, not any sort of affection. She knows that twisted sort of love, and knows that anyone is better off without it. Her father didn't want her to grow up, either.

None of those things happen. For a moment that feels like an eternity, she's frozen, aware of what she should do and wants to do but completely unable to do them. It's a fucking relief that someone else joins in the fight, because once Jamie's hand is gone, once she sees it, she almost forgets about Peter entirely. All she can see is the blood, so much of it; all she can feel is the impulse to vomit, which she has just enough self-control to suppress. That wouldn't help anything right now. Whatever is doing this to her — and she knows what it is, what she's remembering, memories she tries to keep buried filtering back through the cracks and flooding her mind with thoughts of the past — it's not as important as helping Jamie. She can deal with her own shit later.

"Jamie," she says as she runs to his side, the word coming out strangled and panicked. She can't breathe, she realizes, managing little more than shallow gasps and trying her best to ignore it, and all the blood. "You're gonna be okay, alright? We have to — to stop —" She slips her jacket off, trying with clumsy hands to tear off part of the fabric. "Come on, I'll help you."

[a_regular_bitch]

Lisbeth has frankly had enough of this shit.

She's stuck to the shadows, mostly, aware that she's been transplanted, a thought that had gutted her badly enough to vomit over the side of the ship on which she'd awoken. Her first thought, after all, had been of Sam, of whether she's see him again, whether she could claw her way home.

Darrow, she'd realized, is home now, not Sweden.

Staying quiet and observing has led her to the conclusion this might not be permanent, and that it may only be something to survive. Lisbeth knows how to just survive; she resorts to disguises, never lets herself be seen for long. She's perched on a dock, crouching and watching her fishing line, when the commotion comes from far off, and then she's moving to examine it.

For the first time in days, as she recognizes even more faces, she smiles.

[underthefloor]

Surrounded by pirates, it isn't hard for Octavia to get her hands on a sword. It's different from the blade she's used to, but she's a warrior at heart, and Indra and Lincoln trained her well. She gets used to it quickly enough.

Now she's patrolling, keeping an eye out for any threats. Most everyone here can hold their own, but Octavia can't just stand by and wait for something to happen. She needs to be in motion, she needs to act. She needs to do what she can to keep people she cares about from being hurt.

[daughterofawolf]

Eponine is scratched and bruised from their earlier fight with Peter, and the long hike here, splatter-burned from the acid blood of the crazed Many-Eyed they'd dealt with, but she's dealt with cold that threatened to take her toes, too, or with starvation. With tiny Luke hanging tight to her back for half the journey -- brave thing, he'd wanted to walk the whole way, but she'd seen him flagging and it wasn't worth getting them all separated -- she'd kept herself stoic. It likely helped her as much as it helped him, pretending it doesn't hurt.

When they get toward the camp, though, she picks up, running down towards faces she recognizes - faces she didn't even know were here until Jamie shouts their names and she realizes they're there.

She knows -- she knows -- that this isn't going to be simple, that there's likely to be a fight, and she skids to a stop at the camp, setting Luke down. "I want you to stay here," she instructs him, "and don't go anywhere until we come back, unless you can find an adult we know." He nods, big eyed.

Eponine takes off down the beach, splashing through the sting of salty tide to find those she knows.