The second before I swing open the glass doors to the police station, I check my reflection. Alyssa curled my hair, and I borrowed a button-down shirt from Adder. My decision to see Hook is a week late. Partially because Spots took some talking down, and partially because by that time he had to talk me back down again.

I flutter with my hair ineffectually. If Wendy-before-Peter had gone for a job interview, she might've dressed like this. Probably without the purple hair.

My arm twinges as I muscle open the door. I have to stop getting body mods while under the influence, as they tend to be rather literal pains once the buzz wears off. At least the tattoo will turn out cool in the end.

Inside the station, things look much the same as the last time I was here. Cops so busy in their own cases and trips to the coffee-maker that they don't even look at me, purple and pierced as I am. Then I see Smee hovering by someone's desk.

I walk over and cough politely. I think that's what you're supposed to do. He flaps a hand for me to go away, not even looking. I poke him in the arm. "What?" he shouts, whirling around. I take a startled step back but bat my eyes anyway. "Oh, it's you. What can I do for you today?" He grins, which tells me exactly what he wants me to do for him. Ick.

"I need to talk with Captain Hook," I say, ignoring Smee's leering expression.

"He's very busy," the other Pirate replies, not looking up from his paperwork. "He certainly doesn't have time for a silly girl such as yourself."

Control, Wendy. If you cut his face off, Hook will not listen to your message of goodwill. "It's really very important," I assure both Pirates. Smee looks like he might help me out, but the other officer's dismissal nearly destroys that. "Trust me, he'll make time for this."

"He won't. Go away."

Oh, I'll go away. I storm off, but just toward the offices. Brass nameplates declare Sergeant This and Chief Whosit. I see the nameplate for Hook. I knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Hook asks, glancing through the papers on his desk.

I crack open the door, sticking my head in. "It's your favorite Wendy," I say with a nervous smile. He looks up at me. "I have something to discuss with you."

"I have no desire to speak with a girl such as yourself," he says and waves his hand for me to leave.

"I think you do, honey." I scoot inside his office, shutting the door behind me. He looks angry. "I want to talk to you about getting rid of Peter for good. If we help each other, he'll be gone before he realizes."

Hook gives me a measuring look then puts down his pen. Folding his good hand over his hook, he says, "I thought you didn't know Peter."

Aha, I expected this! "I lied to protect my interests at the time," I reply, fishing in my pocket for Peter's ring. Holding it out by the chain, I let Hook examine the battered metal for authenticity. "But I know where my loyalties really lie, and they don't lie with Peter."

"Why should I believe you?" he asks, looking unimpressed as he lets the ring go.

"Because I could help you and because I've lost enough friends. This is personal. Very personal. The lives of all my friends and family rest on Peter, and he hates you as much as you hate him. He'll throw us all away to keep you away. He's already destroyed one of the people trying to stop him." Against the mantra of don't cry, don't cry, tears prickle my eyes.

I don't cry, though. I will not cry in front of Hook.

"The little girl with the blonde hair." When I just stare at him, he adds, "She came to see me last week, saying much the same thing as you. I assume that's who you mean. Still, why should I believe this isn't some trick of Peter's?"

"Did you know," I say, turning to look out of Hook's big office windows and into the station itself, "that some of your officers are working for Peter?" I scan the faces of the Pirates, looking for familiar ones. Instead I see the Pirate Smee had been talking to come stomping across the station floor towards Hook's office.

He meets my eyes for a brief second before glancing away too fast. Wait just a damn minute.

He shoves the door open and says, "Cap'n, I tried to tell her to go away. Thought she had. My apologies." He grabs my upper arm and jerks me toward the door. I look up into the Pirate's face. Crazy green-gold eyes, and a puckered, still-scabbed cut running down one of his cheeks.

Well, well.

"How strange to see you here," I say, planting my feet. "Guess now I know your day job." He yanks his head out of my grasp. Pressing my hand against his chest, I try to remember where I stabbed him. Should be right...there. I push hard with two fingers. The Pirate yelps and, letting go of me, stumbles backward.

I put one of Hook's visitor chairs between me and the other Pirate, the one who attempted to beat up my brother. Oh, Hook. I glance over at him, but he isn't looking at me. "It's quite all right, Harrison. She has a proposition I find most interesting. You may go." The Pirate leaves with a glare at me. "I assume you have a weapon with you now?"

"Yes," I say. I reach into my pocket and hold out the unopened switchblade. This is my insurance, the only thing that might save my life here. "Would you - uhm, do you want to keep it while I'm here?" He shakes his head. OK then. So where was I? "I know that you hate that I feel so important and let everyone know it, but I am important. Really important."

"I know," Hook interrupts me. "You were Peter's supposed favorite."

Does he think I'm no longer important? Prolly because Hook's entire universe revolves around Peter. "And now I'm his equal. He's hurt my brothers, he's gotten my friends arrested and killed. Now I'm the only one left with the strength to fight against him."

Hook sits perfectly still for a moment. "Give me something." Like what, a cup of coffee? Maybe a pony. "Some information that is beneficial to me and proves you are willing to give in order to get."

"Your officer Harrison tried to kill me and my brother because Peter paid him to," I reply. Hook looks irritated. I smile.

"Something I don't know."

"You first," I snap back, putting my hands on my hips. Like I'm going to make the first move here anyway. Please. "I have the information. You only have extra pull. I've got a lot of resources, you're just the first on the list." Bluffing, sort of, and halfway negating what I said earlier. I try not to wince. Negotiating doesn't come easy to me.

"What sort of information do you require?" he asks, watching me over his steepled fingers.

Oh. Well, I hadn't thought of that part. I have the feeling if I say 'useful,' he'll get up and smack me. Why do I get the hard questions? "How about something that proves your goodwill. Specifically, that you won't be out arresting any of my friends. That your intentions are only towards Peter."

The last thing I expect is what Hook does - he smiles. "Very well then. Tonight I'm staging a raid on a warehouse at the corner of--"

"Show me." He just blinks. "On a map. I need to see where it is. I don't know street names."

With a sigh he gestures at his desk. Trapped between the glass top and the wood is a map of the surrounding area, a silver star marking the police station. I walk cautiously to stand by Hook, trying still not to get too close. "Here, this warehouse."

My eyes lose focus as I trace the alleys with my finger, remembering the buildings on the way. It's in Wolf territory. I don't know if they use it or not. I'm starting to think Hook has absolutely no concept that there's a whole system of street gangs outside of Peter and his Lost Boys. "What time?"

"Midnight." I bust out laughing. He is so out of the loop. If he thinks he's going to catch any kids at that totally predictable hour, he's out of his mind. It's why we conduct business in the afternoon. Night is for social calls, sex, partying, fighting. Hook is pissed again, his expression closed. "You are a most rude child."

Once my giggles are under control, I say, "Yes, I am rude. But honestly, I thought you knew better than that." Wiping tears from my cheek, I move on. "All right. We'll see. I'll be back tomorrow then." I hold my left hand out in order to shake his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Captain Hook shakes my hand with the ghost of a smile. "It is definitely interesting. I expect something in return tomorrow."

"Of course." I smile, even though I don't know what I can possibly give him. This is the beginning of a beautiful love-hate relationship, though.

I leave the office and run almost straight into Harrison. "Cheers, darling." I give him the finger. He continues to look angry.

I skip out of the station with a grin.

"How'd it go?" Spots asks from a bench just off the sidewalk.

"We need to see the Wolves. Hook's given me something to test his intentions. Then it's my turn to repay the favor. And then," I declare, swinging my arms expansively to include the city, "we bargain for this."

"This warehouse," I say as we stop in front of it. "Midnight."

"Midnight?" Charles asks with a chuckle.

I shrug. Ain't my fault. "That's what the man said. What's in here?"

"Not much. Random stuff." The Wolf leader shrugs in return.

"Is there any of it you can leave?" I ask, leaning against the concrete wall of the building.

"Leave?" Peter sputters. He's been so quiet I'd forgotten he's here. A little black cloud raining on my damn parade and all seventy-six trombones.

"Yes. Leave." Nobody says anything. Why me? "Little gesture. Saying that we're willing to work with him. Cause if he's not getting anything out of this, he won't want to tell me what he's doing." I think Peter's eyes might pop out of his head at any moment. "Especially when he thinks you control everything on the streets and has no clue that there are even other gangs."

Everyone shares a moment of reflective silence. "I'll see what I can do for you," Charles says. "Now it's time for me to start moving things."

"Gotcha. We'll be back in time to spy on Hook." I wave and turn down the alley to go back to the Vigils, pondering what I can possibly give to Hook in return. Can't nick anything to show the extent of Peter's evil drug-lord ways. I'm certainly not giving up any of my possessions. Maybe Spots can think of something.

"Hey, Vi!" I look at Peter over my shoulder but keep walking. He jogs up next to me. "What you said about Hook - does he really think I'm the only one controlling the streets?"

If there's anything I hate, it's when Peter plays dumb. "Yeah, that's what I said. He doesn't think about territory or the other gangs at all." What's Peter getting at, I wonder.

"Well," he says to himself. I wait for him to clarify. "Do you think you could maybe take some slack for me? While I'm planning for Hook, maybe keep up some of my business ventures?" He smiles at me like that makes it OK. He's seriously nuts if he thinks we're just here for his convenience.

"How about I talk to Spots, and once we're sure Hook's not gonna screw us over we'll see what we can do?" I smile, not because I'm happy to help of course, but because if I can keep a handle on the Hook situation, Peter won't get that far.

Peter grabs me then and embraces me suddenly. I go so stiff my muscles scream, and I can't breathe. "Thank you, Wendy. You are the best." He lets go and trots off down the alley, down the back road.

A part of me wants to say that if he'd actually meant to threaten me, I would've sensed it and acted accordingly. It's a lie though. Peter could've buried the butterfly knife hilt-deep in my heart before I even realized.

It occurs to me that I haven't been taking this seriously enough.

"Wendy?" I look up. It's Spots. Somewhere in this, I crouched down next to the wall and curled into myself. "You OK?"

"No," I say. Honest truth. I don't think I'll be OK until this is all over. He drops to one knee next to me and helps me to my feet. "Spots, I need a favor."

"Sure, Wendy." He's frowning, worried that either I'm losing my mind or cracking or both.

"Can you uhm, give me a hug?" I ask. He takes a moment, probably to reassess his decision on my psychosis, but puts his arms around me. I sigh and bury my face his shoulder. "Thanks."

He awkwardly pats my back before subsiding into being motionless. "What's wrong?" Spots leans his head against mine.

"Aside from everything that's been wrong previously," I mumble, "I think the pressure is getting to me a little bit. I'm trying to adjust. Peter is not helping." And not only that, but I'm frustrated. In several ways.

"Just think. Once this ends, you'll have closure in one way or another." I guess dead is closure. "Just be patient and hang in there." I snort. Easy to say. "Also, I find that making out tends to help in the short term."

I jerk my head up and lean back to look at him. "Say what?"

"Well, it does, if you think about it. And sometimes it leads to other things which also help in stress reduction." He shrugs, tapping his fingers against my back. "I'm just saying."

The only thing that could amaze me more at the moment is if Hook and Peter did a ballet dance wearing tutus and singing 'So Happy Together.' Maybe I'm going crazy, and this is a delusion. "Making out?" I repeat faintly.

Spots grins. "Well, you're no longer feeling sorry for yourself, are you?"

With a bark of laughter, I pull away and punch him in the shoulder. "You jackass!"

He dances out of my reach and sticks out his tongue. "You're welcome."

I follow him. "So are you gonna make out with me or not?"

Spots chuckles but starts to look a little scared. "C'mon, I was kidding."

"But you offered!"

"I didn't think you'd take me up on it," he says, looks freaked out, and runs.

At least I'm no longer feeling sorry for myself. With a wicked smile, I give chase. We run into the Vigil building laughing as I shout, "Spots! Make out with me! Teasing is so unfair!"

Vigils roll their eyes.

"Never!" Spots makes a face of exaggerated terror and disappears into the back hallway.

I stop running and plant myself in a chair with a pout.

"Do I even want to know what that was all about?" Adder asks. The look on his face informs me that I'm behaving very immaturely for a leader, but they'll all soldier on regardless.

"Spots won't make out with me," I reply mournfully.

"Oh." Now Adder looks like he's going to be ill. "OK."

Still, I can't keep the smirk and laughter from spilling out. And I wish Spots would come back, so I could tell him thanks.

Upon returning to Hook's office, I'm wearing my purple party dress over my pool wear. I've got an appointment to rabble-rouse with the Mermaids later. I don't really have nice clothes anymore, so I hope the Pirate can deal with my normal attire from this point on.

"Well, you do own more than T-shirts and jeans. I must say I'm impressed." Hook seems to be in a better mood than yesterday.

"I'm flattered you noticed," I say, continuing the train of niceties. "Course, if you ask where I'm keeping my switchblade, I'll have to hurt you."

Hook sniffs, one of those delicate refined-gentleman things. "I must say your tattoo leaves something to be desired. Not unlike your manners."

Ignoring his disapproving look, I smile. "In a way, I'll always be a Lost Boy, in case you wanted to know the why." The blue and purple ink on my arm picks out the letters "LOST" in Gothic styling. I'm rather proud of it, proving for once that not all my drunken ideas are bad ones.

"Our raid went as planned. We even picked up some interesting contraband."

"I also hear you hit another warehouse that you didn't tell me about."

"I can't tell you everything, Wendy, as I'm sure you can't tell me everything." He smiles at my annoyed frown. "Just because I'm participating in your little charade doesn't preclude me from conducting other business. It was beneficial to you all the same. It buys you more time to negotiate with me."

Staring at someone is sometimes ineffectual. Times like this, I need a cartoony jaw drop with added eyeball pop. "And just how big of a timetable do you think I've got to play around with this? Do you honestly think Peter will say, 'Good effort, Wendy, just keep trying!' until the end of time? Cause he won't, and that's why Tink killed herself after she talked to you. Running into traffic is often considered the better choice to disappointing Peter."

"You seem to disappoint him quite often," Hook says. He drags a case out of his desk. I flinch noticeably as he opens it and raises an eyebrow at me. A steel polishing kit? He starts cleaning the metal hook on his arm. Great.

"But I'm a fighter," I say, once I remember it's my turn to speak. "And even I have a limit."

"What would you have me do?" he asks, getting irritated. "Follow your lead?"

"Yeah, that seems like a good idea!" I stand close to his desk, arms crossed. "You don't seem to understand, honey."

"I'm not your--"

"Just shut up and let me make a terribly righteous speech." He falls silent but his face turns nearly purple from effort. "There are a lot of kids out there, way more than the Lost Boys. I have connections within Peter's crew, but ultimately they will stand by him. Including my brothers. The Vigils will follow me, and we're the next biggest--"

"The who?"

"The Vigils." He continues to look confused. "All right. Here's what we'll do. I have a previous engagement, so I've gotta run. However, I'll give you a little something to work with." I move stuff off his desk map so I can see the area of streets between Lost Boys and Vigils. I point at a dead end. "This is what we call the Mural Wall. It's a members list, so to speak. You need to go in the early morning, probably soon after sunrise." I smile, anticipating his expression. The look of shock will be quite priceless. "And I'll be back tomorrow afternoon so we can set our deal."

"How can you be sure we'll have an accord?" He obviously hates my tendency to control our conversations.

"It just occurs to me that we might." But he needs to understand early on that I have power in myself. I don't need Lost Boys or Vigils to be a threat to Hook. "And if you use the Mural Wall to hurt me or my friends, I will make you extremely sorry." I aim a punch squarely at his face.

There's no heat in it, and even before he grabs my wrist with his good hand, my fist stops a finger length away from his nose. "So keep that in mind, darling." We stare at each other, tension rising the longer I stand there. We're testing each other's will. I grin and extend my fingers to tweak his nose. His jaw drops a little - Wendy: 8 million, Hook: nothing - before he removes my arm from his face. "See you later!"

I dance out of the station. Once Hook understands how many people who are not Peter hate the Pirates, he'll be able to see how precarious his position is in that we hate Peter just a little bit more. Hopefully he'll understand that, and our numbers, and we'll be able to make a deal.

"So?" Spots joins me once I'm an appropriate distance away from the Pirates. I hold out my hand and he presses my switchblade into it.

"I'm going to see the Mermaids now," I reply, continuing on my way. He gives me a 'don't be stupid' look as he keeps pace. "I need to call a Vigil war council. And then tomorrow I'm set to come back here to talk to Hook."

"Another war council?" Spots asks, confused. "So soon?"

"First of all, I need to stay ahead of Hook. If this is gonna turn out right, I have to make my own plans first."

"I get that. But what about Peter, won't he be, I dunno, suspicious if you move too fast?"

"Hopefully he won't have time. Where'd you put my pool bag?" I ask, jabbing him in the ribs.

"It's already there. Don't dodge the issue." He gives me a sobering glare.

"Look at my boys. It's obvious they know something the other Vigils don't." I shrug and look at the pool. No Pirates. No Lost Boys. Alyssa has my swim stuff, sees me and waves. "It's just a matter of time before one of them cracks and tells what he knows. And worse yet, it's a matter of time before Peter gets wise. If I don't move, we all go down." I wave and head into the pool.

Spots shakes his head and turns back the way he came. He never ventures into the pool, not since the time I punched him after he nearly drowned me.

"Wendy, you've been a stranger," Alyssa scolds, giving me a hug. I grin when she lets go. "It's been a while. Peter giving you a hard time?"

"Something like that," I say, shucking off my dress. I reach into my bag and pull out my cigarettes. I can't smoke at the Pirate station, but I can sure as hell smoke now. I blow smoke into the breeze. "It's nice to bake and smoke again. How's it been?"

"All the same. Sun, chlorine, and smoke." She looks at me, one of the few times I've seen her truly serious. "What's going down, Wendy? And where do you fit in?"

I sigh. "It's the final Hook versus Peter. One of them is going down this time." I wonder if I should really tell her whose side I'm on. It may all be over in a few days anyway. "And I'm going to make sure it's Peter."

She blinks once, hard, but nods. "After all he's done, I understand. We understand." Taking my free hand in hers, she says, "We'll do what you need us to do. Our loyalty is to you."

"You sure? Is everybody sure?" I ask. There's so many ways it could blow up, but I need the Mermaids' help.

"Anyone who wouldn't help won't know. I can keep a crew in order, same as you." We grin at each other, and I resume smoking. "We're here for you."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." I tear up from relief. "God, I thought I'd have to make some speech. I just want us to all be safe."

Alyssa tenses and, without moving her lips, says, "Look out." Then she smiles and says, "Romeo, darling, how have you been?"

"I've been good," he says from somewhere close behind me. I politely ignore him. Just smoking my cig, catching sun, being innocent. "Hello, Wendy."

"Romeo," I acknowledge, inclining my head in his direction. "What can I do for you?"

"Peter wants a report on your visit with Hook," he says, sitting on the edge of Alyssa's pool chair. She gives me a speculative look.

"Well, we argued a lot. I gave him my two cents, and he insulted my dress." I glance at him directly. "I was wearing a dress, y'know. But he was being a stubborn ass, so I left in a fit. I intend to go back tomorrow and make him see things my way." I pout a little. "He always insults me. Doesn't help my attempts to be charming." Not lies. Exactly.

"So you didn't get anything done today?" Romeo asks. He looks anxious.

"Yelling and insulting? Plenty. Pieces of Hook's battle plans? Not so much. But I should have better luck tomorrow, when he hasn't had such a long, cranky night." I smile.

Romeo stands up but doesn't walk off. "Wendy, you're doing a great job. I'm proud."

Oh is he? Hmph. "Well, thank you." My smile's more strained now, but holding. Finally, he leaves. With an overzealous sigh, I recline in the chair and say, "Now that I can have some peace, I'm going to catch up on my tan. Wouldn't do to save the neighborhood without one."

"You told Hook about the Mural Wall?" Jag asks. The other boys look blank and confused.

"Now he knows how many of us there are and where we are," Quest mutters to himself.

"Guys, you're jumping to conclusions and overestimating our Pirate friend. First off, Hook hasn't been to see it yet, unless he's feeling really lucky. Second, he knows jack about how things actually run here. He didn't know there even were Vigils," I say, cross. A girl likes to think she has famous exploits. "He doesn't know Lost Boy from Wolf from Vigil. It'll take him a while to even get it figured out, much less find out where we are. I don't plan on giving him a while."

"How long are you planning on giving him?" Farraday asks, crossing his arms.

"Until tomorrow." I take a steadying breath - once I say it, it has to be done - and clarify. "Tomorrow evening, I want to blow this thing wide open. I can't give Hook the time to wise up. I can't give Peter the time to find out."

Silence.

Adder gulps. "Tomorrow? That's - wow. Fast." Kinda freaked but no screaming mimis. Excellent.

"It's got to be," Spots replies. He starts to pace. "We can't keep this secret forever. Peter's very smart--"

"He probably suspects I'm up to something anyway," I add.

"--and so is Hook. What we need is a plan." Spots looks over the boys to make sure they're listening. "If Wendy introduces the plan first, it's more likely to be used instead of Hook's."

"If he even has one," Quest grumps.

"One more thing. The Mural Wall gives me leverage. It lets Hook know how many people I can call on. If it comes to it, can I make the threat that we'll rise against him? I don't want to fuck around with promises if I can't keep them."

The Vigils turn to each other and nod. A couple ask each other quiet questions, but they all agree in the end. Adder smiles, a grin too jaded and cynical to belong to someone his age. "If Hook turns against us, we'll be pretty much fucked no matter what. Might as well go down fighting."

"Also, think about your terms. This is the only opportunity we'll have to negotiate any business matters with Hook." Spots turns to me. "Ask for Sir Henry back." I nod solemnly. That would be such a relief for both of us. I know I'd love to rest a little.

"We could have Hook raid Peter's place," C.B. says.

"I don't want the Lost Boys getting hurt," I remind them.

"There's a way to flush out Peter." Farraday grins. I shudder at the malice there. "I know his backup plan. Where he'll go if Neverland is raided."

Despite his crazy expression, I'm quite pleased and charmed by this information. "How ever did you find that out?"

"You're not the only one who has Lost Boy connections," he says mildly.

"Ooh," I say, raising my eyebrows with a leer. Remind me to be nosey later. "If we plan a raid, I'm going to need everyone's help. Hook will show up with a lot of Pirates, and I don't doubt he will try to do more than arrest Peter. The Mermaids will help, and I'll need all the Vigils. You can't tell them anything yet, though. We need to wait until after I finalize with Hook."

"What about the Wolves?" Jag asks, glancing at Farraday.

"I can't ask that of them. They're just trying to stay alive, bless their little hearts, and it's hard enough when times are good." I shrug and shift my weight between my feet. "All right, guys. You need to tell me how you're going to get in and out, signals, anything you can think of. I don't want to be at a loss for anything."

"Don't you have any ideas?" Quests asks with a nervous laugh.

"Me? I'm using everything I've got to get you organized, talk to Hook, and lie to Peter." I grin, because I'm just this side of falling apart. "I need someone else to give me detailed directions. I'm just the poor bastard who has to do the fighting."

"Time to make a deal, darling," I say, walking into Hook's office. His expression is stressed, stretched too thin with the effort needed to keep his face from betraying him. "And a plan, which I've carefully considered."

"So you're a gang leader, like Pan." Good. Hook sees what I wanted him to at the Mural Wall.

"I am a leader. Not like Peter though." I become very interested in examining his certificates on the wall. "I'm not out to help myself. Otherwise I would be his whore or I would've killed him already."

"Hard to choose?" Hook asks with a sneer. It's probably the first indecorous thing I've heard him say.

"Nothing's ever simple with Peter," I say, shrugging it off. "Which is why today has to be planned so carefully. Why every action has to have a contingency plan. It's hard to say whether Peter will react as we want him to or not."

"Today?" Hook stands up, resting his knuckles and hook on his desk. "How can we possibly - these things take time to plan."

"I know. I have planned it, thank you very much." Standing with my arms mirroring his on the desk, I say, "If we don't hurry he'll figure out what I'm doing, and then we'll be fu--screwed."

"What was your idea?" Hook asks, glowering.

"I go tell Peter I'll have some news for him at a certain time and then bring my closest Vigils into Neverland with me. Most of the Vigils will be outside, taking up positions around the building. When I'm satisfied all the Lost Boys are inside, I'll send one of my Vigils to see what's keeping another of my crew - a lie, yes -" I say, when the policeman gives me a funny look, "and he's the one who'll tell you it's time to move. All the rest of the Vigils will come busting in when you do, and we'll have everything covered. Peter has a safe place where he'll try to go during the raid. We'll flush him out of the crowd, send him packing to jail. Quite simple."

"I don't much care for it," Hook says, waving his hand as he tends to do when he's made up his damn mind about something. Of course, I didn't ask if he cared for it. "Seems a little stacked on your side."

If he had any idea about the Mermaids, he'd cry right now. "Of course it is. You don't seem to understand, Captain. I have all the street power right now. If you think Peter's a thorn in your side, you don't know anything yet. I could bring the whole neighborhood down on your head." I smile. "How would it look if that happened, hm?"

He regards me in silence for a few moments. "If I agreed to help you, I would have some conditions to be met."

I shrug and turn my back to him, looking out at the station instead. Pirates are processing people just as busily as normal. "Good, 'cause I have some conditions of my own. I want Sir Henry released from prison. Most importantly of all, I want you to only go after Peter. No other kids, period. I'm not handing you anyone else."

"Release a criminal because you say so? Hardly a fair trade." Hook gets the same look Sam from the pawn shop used to get, before Hook busted him. "I'll agree not to prosecute the rest of your rabble provided I get Pan alive. If I don't capture Pan, then I'll haul you all in." I nod, indicating acceptance. It seems like an easy thing, but I'm not optimistic enough to believe it'll actually be anything resembling easy. "And I will agree to do this entire thing, follow your entire plan, based on one little promise from you."

"And what would that be?" I ask, half-sitting on the edge of his desk. I'm not in the mood for his little guessing games today.

Hook grins, sending tendrils of fear through my heart and brain and stomach. "I want you to leave. Give up your power, and leave the streets." My jaw drops. He isn't asking this of me, he isn't. He can't, he can't. "And because I know your devotion to your brothers, you better take them with you."

"But--but my parents are horrible! They don't care! I don't want--These kids are my family, this is my home!" Tears build up but I fight, harder than I've ever fought, because Captain James T. Hook will not see my cry. Ever. "I belong here."

"Listen to me, Wendy Darling." I freeze on the verge of crying. He knows who I am. Wonder how long he's known, how he found out. "I know the power that you hold. After this, it will only be stronger. We both know where such powers and temptations lead. I also know that you won't be able to visit without meddling. I don't want to hear about you fighting, or meddling, or being involved in the goings-on here ever again." Somewhere past the knife-wound, raw hurt, I understand his reasons. He adds, voice almost gentle, "You don't have to give up your friends and family. Just your home."

"I don't want to be like Peter," I admit in a whisper.

The cold, rational, leader side of my brain reminds me that I agreed to do whatever it took to get Hook's help. There's no other way to win, not when the only people the Lost Boys fear are Pirates. Even if I'd almost rather die than let go of this life, the rest of them - Spots, Metal, Charles, my Vigils, my Boys - want to live.

As I slide off of Hook's desk, I brace myself. Once I say I'll do it, it will be true. It'll happen. "I will leave here, and my role as a leader and a fighter. If you get rid of Peter like I asked. I swear as I am Wendy."

For a moment, Hook is silent, almost as if in respect for my pain. "And I swear, as I am James T. Hook, that I will do as you ask." He holds out his hand to shake. I grasp his hand. "We have an accord."

For fear of sobbing, I speak through bared teeth, unable to pry my jaws apart. "And if you plan on fucking us over, I will make you so sorry you'll experience a level of penance so horrible and painful that there are only screams." I hold his hand in a grip so tight my fingers begin to cramp. "That I also swear, as I am Wendy."

"Quaint." Hook doesn't look sure about whether I'm serious or not. I'm so serious I'm already devising how to set up a system that would keep his blood pumping back in as it drains out. He disengages my hand by tugging on it with his silver hook. "Let's start by getting our geographical bearings, shall we? Show me where Peter is."

The feeling, I find, is something like having my ribcage ripped out, with a splash of broken heart. No, no. My heart ripped out and then my chest pummeled with a baseball bat.

My head spins with fast-forwarded images of maps superimposed on memories of doors and alleys and back roads. I want to scream. Tear someone up bad. Instead, I shudder and keep walking.

Today's a gorgeous day, weather-wise. Warm and sunny, not muggy at all. Still I've got chills that rattle my teeth. My knees unlock every few steps from the force of my convulsing. I must look stoned. Somehow I make it almost home, the alley in front of the Vigil door, before my left knee unlocks with enough force that I can't catch my balance.

Falling sideways, I notice I'll soon be impacting the old metal dumpster we use for camouflaging the alley. I expect it to hurt a lot, and in a way I hope it does. My shoulder and arm making a booming crash when they hit, but otherwise it doesn't hurt too badly. I slide to the ground and stare at the Vigil door, knowing I should get up and go inside.

I can't get up. Maybe if I sit here and breathe, time will stop.

C.B. sticks his head out the door and says, "What in the - are you OK?" My eyes fill up and spill over with tears, and somehow I find the strength to bury my head in my arms and shake my head emphatically. He slams the door shut and shouts something inside.

I'm starting to regain control. My anger at crying burns clear through the despair, and I can feel my limbs fill up with strength. I can't cry here. Not here.

I can hear Spots inside, shouting, "Stay inside, all of you!" He jogs out the door and kneels beside me. "Are you OK?" I shake my head, rocking side to side as I try to make myself angrier still. It's almost enough to stand and walk. "C'mon, get it together. Go inside. Once you've taken care of the final instructions, what you need to get done, then you can cry."

Sucking in a shuddering breath, I nod and wipe my face on my shirt. I can do this. For just a few minutes longer. As I stand, steadying myself against Spots, I reach into my pocket and pull out my spiked bracelet. I walk in looking a little worse for the wear but not actively crying. My war party forms around me as we walk to the throne room.

"It goes down at sunset tonight, just like we planned. Watch Hook and the other Pirates, cause I don't trust him to just go after Peter. I suspect he'll want to get some freebies. Sunset is about seven tonight. You can tell all the Vigils this whole story then, not before." I look around at the faces of my war party. They look tired, but eager and excited. The next breath I take isn't steady at all. "And someone talked to T about being the first runner?"

"Yeah. I'll go get him though." C.B. gives me a funny look before he leaves.

"Are you OK?" Adder asks.

"No." But I grin, a kind of crazy desperate one, that's at least better than crying some more. I turn my attention on Quest. "And you're OK with staying here and telling all the Vigils about Sir Henry and what we're doing?"

He shrugs and nods. "'Bout as OK as I can be."

T trots in behind C.B. I ask, "They told you the plan?"

"Yeah, they told me. And I haven't told anyone else," he says, throwing his shoulders back with pride.

"Remember, it's run - and I mean run - here, give Quest the signal. Then run to the police station to tell Hook we're ready."

"Here and to Hook, fast. I got it." He smiles.

"All right." Without the momentum of scheming and planning, I feel a little lost. I give them all a shaky smile. "Adder, if you'd be so kind as to go tell Peter we'll be giving him the all-important visit this evening?" He grins. "Good. I'll come to collect you guys later. Just a little bit longer, then it's over."

I don't think I can do this anymore.

Without much warning, I stumble to the door of the throne room and make my way to my bed. I'm tired, so tired of all this sneaking and betrayal and fighting. Peter's stolen so much from me. Even when getting rid of him, he manages to take away the one thing he's never been able to touch before - my life and my streets.

Spots follows me into our room and locks the door behind him. The sound of the bolt sliding into place melts into the first choked sob I make, sitting down on my bed. "Wendy, what happened?"

"Hook agreed to help us on two conditions. If he gets Peter alive, and if I leave here."

"Leave?" Spots asks, dropping next to me on the bed. "Leave why?"

"I'm too powerful for him. He doesn't like the competition, in case you haven't noticed," I say with a bitter laugh and stare at my feet.

"You--you didn't agree, did you?" Spots asks, raising up onto an elbow. He searches my face desperately, but I've got nothing for him to find. I'm empty of everything. "We can do this some other way. Go tell him we're calling off the deal."

"There is no other way," I reply. "It's too late."

"You can't leave!" Spots shouts, shaking me by the shoulders as if I'm personally responsible that Hook's an asshole. "I'm not going to let you."

I raise my head to look him in the face. Tears leak out of my eyes, burning trails down my face. "I have to go. I promised I'd do what it took to keep you guys safe. This is what it takes."

"How can you just go along with it?" He's yelling now, standing up and pacing. I get up and try to stop him by grabbing his arm. He's got the wrong end of the stick here. "Do you want to leave? Are you just tired of dealing with us? Huh?"

"No, I don't want to leave! This is where I belong, this is where I love to be! How can you ask me that! How can you?" Even I look surprised at my sudden shouting. I drop to my knees as the rage bleeds dry again, leaving me trembling. "No. I don't want to go. This is my home. The Vigils, the Lost Boys, the Mermaids. This is my family. I love it here." The tears build up again, and this time I don't think I can stop. Crying always feels this way. A black hole I'll never escape. "It's killing me, Spots. It hurts, and it's killing me, God!"

I stop trying to hold on. I stop trying to stay smart and above the emotion. Clutching my arms to my chest, I lean low over my legs and sob into my fists like a child.

Spots sits down and puts an arm across my back, using a hand to sweep my hair away from my face. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I didn't mean it. You know I talk shit," he murmurs. With a sigh, he leans his head against my shoulders, even though they judder with the force of my crying, and wraps his arms more securely around me.

Once the tears come slower, I review the arrangements I still need to make. Someone has to bring me my stuff after our little fight today. If I have to come back here to get my things, I may never leave. "I--I should pack." I scrub my face with my hands and sit up, dislodging Spots as gently as I can. "And - if you wouldn't mind - find someone to bring my stuff to the police station after this is over?"

"Anything you want," Spots says, hugging me. I look at him as he swipes the back of his hand across his eyes.

"Anything," I echo. The tiniest of smirks lifts my spirits. "Make out with me." I wonder if he's going to bolt. He stares at me, the kind that says I've gone bald and painted my head green. "Or you could just help--"

He puts his hands on my face and kisses me.

Jack leans over the back of the couch, saying, "And how fast is Quest, exactly?" I glare at him and shove his face away. He's not making me feel any better about how long this is taking. I check the watch on Spots's arm anyway. Just 10 more minutes.

"Honestly, Wendy, how long is this going to take?" Peter asks, looking at me over the top of Lily's head. They're sitting together in a loveseat that's new. I'm just counting my blessings that they haven't been making out in front of us.

"I can't say, though it should be soon. I'd rather Quest be careful than to have the Pirates follow him here." Just saying that makes my palms slick with sweat. Does he know? Can he see? Adder gives me a cheeky grin. I kick his ankle. "Who's up for a game of Spoons?"

The Twins rush around to collect the spoons for them and me and C.B. to play. We get down to me and one of the Twins before I call a stop and glance again at Spots's watch. "Hey, T. Go see if you can find Quest. Tell him if he's jerking around, I'm going to slice off a finger."

T stands up and bows with a bloodthirsty grin. "My pleasure," he says and walks out of the Treehouse.

"I swear, Quest just lives to piss me off," I mutter and light a cigarette. As each piece of the plan falls into place, the whole ruse is easier to act out.

"A lot of people live to piss you off," Jag reminds me with a smile.

"Like me," Jack says, kicking my leg. "Sorry to break it to you, pet. You're so funny when you're angry."

"Am I?" I say, trying to act nonchalant. After this he will probably never speak to me again. Mixed blessing, I suppose. I turn back to the Twins. "'Nother game of Spoons?"

Every minute, adrenaline surges through my system as I compulsively turn over the finer points of the plan. I can play Spoons in my sleep, thankfully. Otherwise I'd be screwed. Every so often I glance at my Vigils - they're carousing or playing cards or smoking - and the Lost Boys - some of them talking, some not. I grind out my cigarette, but don't light another one, even though I want to. The Boys may all hate me after this. Let 'em. I won't be here to take their crap anyway. I wince at that, my own heartless thought, no matter how true.

The door opens, and Quest comes into the room. I barely keep myself from jumping up. "Wendy," he says, nodding at me. Down his cheeks are lines of blue paint. They're here, the Vigils and the Pirates.

Peter stands up and says, "So what's the report?" But Quest isn't looking at the Lost Boy. He's looking at me, and my war party goes still. "Quest, are you deaf?"

I take several quick breaths. This is it. I raise my left hand, the one with the spikes, and give a thumbs-up, grinning hysterically. Quest nods, and we all spring up, yelling and crowing, to tackle the Lost Boys nearest us. I knock Jack over and kneel on his chest. He flails a little, but he's too confused. They all are. To my left, Farraday decks Cowboy and digs his knee into the Lost Boy's back.

Vigils pour in through the doors, knives out and open, blue lines running from the corners of their eyes like the trademark way I scar my opponents. After them come the Pirates with their guns. Guns have so much less style and chivalry than knives. They're Pirates, so what can you do. The adults take up stations around the doors, while the rest of us subdue the Boys. A couple Vigils rush to my war party and to me, smearing paint on our cheeks to match.

"Wendy! You two-timing whore!" Peter snarls and launches himself at me, as no Vigils really wanted to get in his face.

"Peter Pan. Still as uncouth as ever in the presence of ladies." Jack goes abruptly still beneath me as everyone turns to look at Captain Hook. He strolls through the doorway, gun in hand, wearing some snazzy trench coat. I wish I'd dressed for this now. Hey. He called me a lady. Rock on! "I see little has changed in the last few years."

"Oh Wendy, what did you do?" Metal asks, horrified. Adder watches him closely.

"I sold my soul to keep you all alive," I answer, holding my head up. After this will come the fighting. "Cause if Peter stays here, he'll do to the rest of us what he did to Sir Henry," I hiss, finding Peter's eyes and letting my anger appear on my face. He glares back at me. "I refuse to let you do that to anyone else. That's why I made this deal."

"About that deal--" Hook says, a smirk on his face as I turn my head to stare at him.

"You are going according to plan because you swore on your name, honey," a girl says behind me. "There are no take-backs." I nod at Alyssa. The Mermaids have on war paint, looking like flowers, clowns, tribal warriors, birds.

I look back at the moment Peter flings himself at me, knocking me off of Jack. My shoulders hit the couch, making me grunt in pain. I use the couch to lean back and kick Peter in the stomach. Other people are shouting, and I hear the sounds of connecting hits. I rise up to pursue Peter, but Jack gets in my way. "Jack--" I say, preparing a little speech about how important this is, just in case Jack feels like talking.

He doesn't look angry exactly. More like annoyed. "So Wendy," he says, punching me hard in the chest. I crack him across the face with my hand. "We're all going to jail for this thing?" He knocks my legs out from under me.

"No. The deal is all of us don't go to jail. All of us except Peter." I roll away from him. I don't know that he even owns a knife, but I'd rather not find out.

"Oh." Jack thinks for a second. "All right then." He reaches out a hand and helps me up. "Good luck and all that." But he grins. "See you after a while." He sits down on the couch.

I look around and see Peter's approaching my brothers. "Peter! Get away from them!" Poor John. Protecting Michael and himself from Peter. Someone tackles me from behind. My attacker's grip slips, allowing me to rise over him. "Romeo."

"You don't know what you're doing!" he shouts.

I just smile and punch him in the face. Stumbling away from him, I take in the surroundings. John's fighting off Peter. My heart warms with pride. The Pirates are using their guns as clubs instead of shooting. One of them hits a Vigil.

"Hey!" I drop the guy with a kick to his shin. I turn to find Hook. "Call your guys off the Vigils. They're all marked. Lost Boys only!"

Hook looks at me and pretends not to hear. I spit at him in anger. But some of the Mermaids heard. They stop aimlessly fighting and start taking out the Pirates after my Vigils. Farraday grins and clubs Nibs on the head, hard enough to knock him out. I grin as the annoying Boy sprawls.

"Wendy!" I turn too late. Romeo crashes into me again. This time I'm the one pinned to the ground. "You can't do this!"

"Tough shit, Romeo. I already am!" I raise up as much as I can, grabbing his collar, and slam my head into his. The blow disorients me as well, but I manage get some room for my arm. I punch him hard in the face, again and again. "And you don't get a fucking vote." There's so much anger in my body, I can't stop hitting him. Not even when his nose breaks and blood runs into my face. I roll him off me and wipe my face on his shirt. Who knows what junk he's got in his blood now.

I roll to my feet again and search for Peter. The object of my search is still faced off against my brother. As I scream, Peter knocks John down.

A shot rings out, silencing the room. Even the Pirates duck. In the doorway is Charles, face painted like a red wolf, a gun pointed at the ceiling. "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to announce that Peter should give himself up, and that I have snipers ready for anyone who wants to argue or beat up more of my friends." Charles winks at me. I don't even want to know how he found out, or where he's hiding the snipers. "Guess Wolves aren't totally brainless." I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

Hook opens his mouth, and plaster explodes a few inches from his head. Good. Now we have the kind of quiet I can pick Peter out of.

But he's fast, smart. A couple things I like to forget.

Peter yanks up my younger brother and puts his butterfly knife to Michael's neck. I narrow my eyes but don't move. "So you want me, huh? How about taking a shot through her brothers? It's the only shot you're gonna get."

A gun cocks behind me - a Pirate, as no Wolf would be that dumb - but Tank growls, "Try it, and you'll be relieved of your eyeballs." Maybe the Lost Boys won't be a collective pain in the ass.

"Peter, it would be most wise to stop before you rack up even greater charges," Hook says, stepping forward. Peter tightens his grip on my brother, who makes a choked noise. What the hell is Hook thinking? Peter doesn't believe he'll be arrested, so charges mean nothing to him.

"Peter," John whispers, sitting up. One side of his face is swelling up. I'm starting to think I can't remember his face without the bruises. This time when Peter flinches, the blade cuts Michaels' neck. My breath hisses out.

"Peter, just go. Don't hurt the kid." Romeo gets up slow and limps forward to stand just in front of me. His face is a bloody, ruined mess. He'll heal, but it'll never be the same heartbreakingly perfect face. Maybe it'll start showing some character.

Peter waves a little, shifting his weight between his feet. Michael, to his credit, isn't crying or whimpering or anything. "OK then. Here's how it'll go. You'll all get down on the ground and close your eyes. After I've left, I'll let Michael go. Do it, or I'll kill him."

I hesitate but drift slowly to my knees, lowering my head. The Vigils follow, and the Mermaids. Romeo crouches a little in front and to the left of me, followed by the Lost Boys. Only the Pirates are still standing. This is what we planned, I think at Hook, to flush Peter out. We know where he's going. Just save my brother. The Pirate Captain murmurs something, and the cops drop to their knees.

"Eyes closed!" Peter shouts. I lower my eyes but don't close them. "OK, OK." I can hear him start to move.

"You better run," I growl, tensing every muscle. The door creaks - he must have gone out the back - and slams. I leap up and hurdle the loveseat, where Lily sits and cries, before dodging several Pirates.

"Wendy!" Hook roars, but I'm out the door and into the alley. I don't have time to argue with Hook. All I intend to do is rough Peter up a little first.

I hear Peter's footsteps ahead of me. He hasn't let go of my brother, but I didn't really think he would. He's got a nice head start, but not for long.

Peter's destination is tall, old, and easy to find. Used to be an apartment building, but now it's abandoned like everything else around here. The door is wedged shut when I get there. I suck in a breath and kick at the door twice before it gives way. I tumble over the broken door and metal chair behind it. It's not enough to stop me, not anymore. In the front part of the lobby is a single elevator, ascending with Peter. The stairs twine around in front of it, so I waste no time rushing up them. Around the third floor, my side hurts and my legs feel weak, so I punch the up button for the elevator before continuing my climb.

On the fourth floor is an old fireman's axe in a glass box along the wall. Temporarily stripping off my shirt, I wrap it around my arm and use my elbow to break the glass. The axe breaks the boards blocking the elevator shaft, and I press the up button there as well. I force the metal cage doors open and wait as the floor indicator above me tracks the elevator's return from the top floor.

The ancient car rumbles toward me. When the doors open, I punch the button for the top floor and duck back out. The car descends to the next floor, and I step onto the top of it. I grin to myself, because Peter won't be able to surprise me in the elevator.

I hear the Lost Boy shout at my brother, the sound echoing down the metal throat of the building. He better be scared. Michael's done nothing to him ever, except trust him above all others. Even above me.

Crouching low to the top of the elevator, I hold the axe ready. Hook's coming. Vigils, Lost Boys, Mermaids, Wolves, too. None of them is getting to Peter before me.

"I know you're coming, Vi. You think you can defeat me, but you can't." I can't really see him through the wrought-iron workings of the elevator, but I don't move until the elevator comes to a stop with only enough room for a girl to crouch on top of it. The elevator dings as the doors slide open.

Peter doesn't say a word. The elevator shuts and starts to descend. I wing the axe as hard as I can against the coupling for car and cable. I swing again, using all my force, and the coupling groans and bends. The elevator stops moving. I wish I could see the look on Hook's face when he realizes he has to walk up twelve flights of stairs.

Shoving open the doors, I jump out of the elevator shaft and onto the floor in front of Peter. He stares at me with the same expression of hate as usual, lit by a two bare bulbs left in this mini-lobby of a landing. Michael squirms in the bigger boy's tight grip, eyes pleading with me. I throw down the axe. "So Peter, here we are. The fight of our lives. Again."

"Shut up!" Peter hisses, jerking my brother. "I'll hurt him. I will."

"Come on, Peter. Don't be remembered for this. Be remembered for a last stand against me, mano a mano," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Who knows, you might win."

Peter considers this for a moment. He should know that I won't be held back by his threats forever, and that if he does hurt Michael, I'll rip Peter's eyes out with my fingers. "All right. Just you and me, with knives. No axes," he adds, eyeing my discarded one.

I crack a smile at the absurdity of his expression. "No axes." Peter lets go of Michael, who darts to my side. "Why don't you take this downstairs?" Michael picks up the weapon and, sparing one last look for us, runs down the stairs. "He's a good kid."

"Yeah," Peter agrees. He skips forward and slugs me hard. I roll once I hit the floor and kick him in the stomach. He stumbles back, and I draw my knife.

Half-kneeling in front of him, ready to leap, I'm struck by what this all means. This is it. This is the final fight, the last time I'll have to stand before Peter. He's looking wild, maybe even scared.

"What're you gonna do? No one will ever treat you like I do." Well, no one better treat me like he's treated me. I'll miss how he used to make me feel like a queen, his special girl. I'll miss the Boy who introduced me to everything I like in my life. Well, a lot of things I like in my life. "Don't throw it away, Vi."

I hate that nickname beyond all reason. "My name is Wendy, Peter." I spin my knife over the back of my hand. "I'm not your creature anymore." I spring up and grab him by the throat, slamming him into a support pillar. I grab a fistful of his shirt and put my knife to his throat.

He watches me with dancing eyes. He doesn't think I'll really do it. Last time, when I was saving John from Peter - the first time I had to, at any rate - I let myself be stopped because all my friends asked me to quit. But this time I've got the rage, the motive, the opportunity.

This time I can do it.

Well, I could do it.

But I promised a Pirate I wouldn't, and I'm going to keep my word. Doesn't mean I can't play a little. I hear the clatter of people on the stairs, so I don't have much time. I punch Peter in the stomach and cuff him so hard he falls sideways. He yanks on my legs to make me stumble. I pounce on his midsection and prepare to punch him a few more times.

"Wendy," Hook growls, tugging on my shoulder with his hook.

"You're fast for an old guy," I say, privately displeased at being interrupted. I lurch to my feet and lean against a pillar. I pull a cigarette out of my pocket and light up. "You boys don't mind me."

"Peter Pan, in the flesh again," Hook murmurs, circling the Boy on the floor. Peter looks more like a kid than ever, glowering and petulant. A kid with his hand stuck in a diamond-filled cookie jar. "How I've waited for this day."

"Oh? So I can cut off your other hand?" Peter says, getting to his feet. He's grinning now. Must be figuring out how to get himself out of this. If Hook lets him talk for too long, we'll all be screwed.

"You're not getting out of this one, Pan," Hook hisses. Now he looks appropriately pissed off and very ready to do justice. And timely too. I glance down the stairwell. People are coming. "It's time for you to grow up and take responsibility for your actions."

"Never!" Peter shouts and tackles Hook. Now this is quality entertainment. They kick and roll, punching and choking. Boys are so indelicate. They roll near the open elevator, and Peter makes a move so sudden I can't follow. When he's still, he has Hook's gun pressed firmly between the Pirate's eyes. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to do." He grabs Hook's whole hand and announces, "Now I'll take this hand for a souvenir."

I sigh and crush my cigarette beneath my boot heel. Time to be all heroic. I walk over and kick Peter in the chest, hard. He loses his grip on the gun and rolls away, air whooshing from his lungs. "Get up," I tell Hook.

"He could've shot me!" The Captain is white as chalk.

"But he didn't, so shut it." I face Peter again as he coughs on the floor. "Everybody else will be here soon, Peter. Wanna go down like a pussy in front of them? Or would you rather they think you went out like a hero?"

His expression is strained but resolute. "I won't go to prison for this."

I shrug and reply, "I don't care where you go. Once Hook's got you, I have to leave and go back to my parents." All the loathing and pain I feel invades my words, until I'm spitting them out like poison. "So really, I don't give a shit if you join the circus or not."

"You want to kill me, don't you?" Peter asks, looking crafty. Does he honestly think he can needle me into killing him? Not when his life means so much to this whole plan.

"Wendy," Hook says.

I ignore him. "When don't I want to kill you?"

"Wendy."

"You never used to want to kill me." Peter rises to his feet, closing the distance between us. "In fact, you used to love me."

"Wendy!"

"My mistake," I say.

"Wendy Darling!" Hook shouts.

I turn in fury and shout back, "What?" Honestly.

There's a loud noise nearby, must be the Vigils finished tearing up the stairs. My arm's wet, though, and I frown, remembering I should be keeping my eyes on Peter. He's got this puzzled look on his face, looking down at himself, and as he sags I notice the dark hole in his chest and the spreading stain of blood. Before I can help myself, I catch him under the arm, and his weight forces me to the floor.

His head lolls back, and I know he's dead. He can't be dead though. If he's dead, Hook won't honor his promise. He'll take us all away. I'll have fought this hard for nothing. I stare at Peter's body, cradled in my lap, and shake.

Two tiny, beaded slippers enter my field of vision. I look up as Tink says, "Wendy, you look like the Pietà." She taps a gun against her leg and offers me a half-smile. I draw in a shuddering breath, but I can't say anything, not even a sound. "It's all gonna be OK now."

"No it won't." My voice cracks, and I close my eyes for a minute. "Hook wanted Peter alive. He's going to arrest us all now. That was the deal."

"I'm not going to arrest any of you, Wendy." Hook comes to stand in front of me as well. "This was the desired outcome."

And he didn't tell me? Does that mean I can stay here? "Does that mean I can stay, then?" Hope, for the first time in days.

Hook shakes his head. "No. The arrangement is still for you to leave." He smiles, a wicked smirk, really.

Tink looks up at him in surprise. "You're making her leave? You bastard."

"Wendy?" I recognize a Vigil voice.

With a sigh, I lay Peter's body on the floor. Even in death, he looks so young, like he should be innocent. He's also bled all over my shirt, which I'm sure won't win me any points with the crowd of street kids behind me. But I'm far away already. I've been used, lied to, mistreated, beaten up. I'm very tired.

I turn to face the kids who've poured out of the stairwell. They stare at me, at the blood made visible in the light, at Peter on the floor. "It's over," I say in a broken whisper.

"Let me through!" Lily screams, shoving her way through the boys on the stairs. She pauses at the top. I close my eyes as she whips past me, sobbing.

I lift my chin and walk to the stairs. The Vigils stare at me from their blue-painted faces, but they begin to smile and touch my arms, my shoulders. I hear them whisper about Sir Henry, and I know most of them won't be too upset by Peter's death.

Just below the first Vigils is my own war party. They don't look too damaged, which is a relief. Adder hugs me, even though I'm a bloody mess, and pushes me at Jag. They pass me down the line then back up a few steps to see Spots. I grin at him. I can't help it. We won.

"You did it." He smiles and kisses my forehead. Vigils make mocking noises, but they're grinning like idiots and happy. His smile disappears. "We'll move all your stuff soon. Then we'll come see you at the police station, OK? Don't leave until we get to say goodbye."

I nod, incapable of replying. I bury my face in his shoulder and hug him tight enough he probably can't breathe. With a sigh, I let go and resume my descent down the stairs.

I meet pockets of Vigils on my way down, growing thinner, until I see the first of the Lost Boys. From the looks on their faces, I'm pretty sure some Vigil ran down the stairs shouting the news. I see the fury and the betrayal. Pack looks me in the eyes for the first time, and the hatred there almost makes me miss my next step. Metal turns his face away from me when I pass him a few feet later. The Twins just look at me, but Cowboy spits at me. I don't see Jack or Nibs. Or Romeo.

I wish I hadn't broken the elevator now.

My feet move mechanically, and for about a floor I meet no one. Alyssa turns her face, painted like a butterfly, to look at me. She reaches out, and we squeeze each other's hands. There are only a few Mermaids here, but they nod and say, "Well done." I smile bitterly. That has yet to be proven.

"The rest of us, and the Wolves too, are downstairs, keeping out the Pirates." Alyssa kisses my cheek but doesn't hug me. I'm covered in blood, and she's no Vigil, despite her many fabulous qualities. "Hang in there."

I don't even remember the last flights of stairs.

The lobby is full of Wolves and Mermaids, and they raise a cheer for me even as they keep an eye on the doors. Charles salutes, and I muster one last grateful smile. I'm a hero, no matter what the Lost Boys think. I'm legend. I'll be remembered long after I'm gone. The thought bites.

"Hey," John says. He's sitting on the last stair with Michael. My brothers look at me, and I can see they're tired too. "So it's done?"

"It's over," I say, sighing.

"Peter's dead?" Michael asks.

"He's dead." It still doesn't feel real.

"Bout damn time," John says, rising to his feet with a groan. He turns a bruised grin on me.

"We have to go back, now. Back to our parents." I can't look at them, but I don't feel like crying, which is good. "I promised we would, so Hook would help us."

"Well, we don't have stay there, do we?" John asks.

I shrug. "We can't come back here anymore, if that's what you mean."

They're quiet for a moment. "Well," Michael says, "there are always other places to go."

Startled, I look at my brothers. They're grinning at me. "Honestly, Wendy," John says, slapping me on the shoulder, which makes me frown. "Some of us have school to finish, and we're so very behind." He sticks his tongue out like a four-year-old and moves across the lobby to the door.

I will never, ever be able to understand that boy. I don't think I even want to.

"I think he hit his head," I say as Michael stands up too.

My youngest brother smiles and says, "I think Peter hit it for him."

"Good point." I shake my head as we follow John out of the building. "Good point." Wolves and Mermaids part as we pass through them. Outside, Pirates do the same.

I'll never hear Peter laugh again. He'll never smile at me like I'm the greatest person in the world. He'll never hurt my brothers again. He'll never threaten my family anymore.

I'm more likely to die in a car accident than a knife fight. Hell, I'm more likely to die in my house from sticking a fork in the toaster when my bagel gets stuck. And yet. I know how to fight. I know how to steal. I know how to charm, how to intimidate. I can follow. I can lead. I can be patient. I can be stronger than anyone around me. Maybe that's not so bad after all.

I smile at the night sky, tears running blue and mixing with the blood on my shirt. It's over. It's all over.

We pass under a streetlight, and John looks at me. I can tell he's about to be a smartass just from the tilt of his head. "You look like shit."

"Thank you. The night wasn't complete until you insulted me." I roll my eyes. I'm quite sure I look horrible, but it's one of those things you just don't say.

"I think she looks like war. Like fighting."

"Thank you, Michael. See, John? This is what a nice brother does." I gesture grandly. "He uplifts the spirit, instead of trying to trample it. Besides, I don't have anything else to wear."

John strips his T-shirt off over his head and holds it out to me. I smile. I use the back of my bloody shirt to wipe off the blood on my arms and where it went through my shirt onto my stomach. As I shrug on his shirt, he says, "Thanks. For saving me like you've done."

I've done everything that everyone expected out of me. I saved my brothers. Rescued the Vigils like Sir Henry asked. Kept all the kids out of Hook's grasp, like the Vigils expected, and Jack as well. Learned to be the best like Peter demanded. He never thought I'd actually do it, and he played with me, thinking I would fail. That's the best part, I think.

I beat Peter at his own game.

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