The bond between twins... it was thicker, more tightly woven than any hemp rope of the natives. You couldn't separate their souls - even Neverland's oblivion hadn't managed it in all these years. Nog and Fog proved this well, for one was never found without the other. Constantly running around somewhere together, in battle, it was as if they shared the same mind, seeing the other's thoughts even before he saw it himself. One soul in two bodies and with the same, sometimes wide awake and sometimes just stupid mind.

Oh yes, things were protected from the island's influence that that essence could not lay upon - that Neverland would never imbue. But how could that be possible? There was no such clear answer. Peter had long tried to understand why the fine gold so quickly reached out to cut some bonds.... and showed itself powerless on others.

His gaze rested thoughtfully on Jake, the older brother's desperate expression one of more than concern. In the dilated pupils stood... Mortal fear. Peter could understand him very well indeed. How many times had he arrived at Hangman's Tree, completely exhausted from the long sprint through the woods or a long flight, laughing at the adventure that had not yet wholly evaporated...? and only then had he noticed that not all the boys were running behind him. And it could always be the inveterate lost ones who never found their way back to the Tree - because fate decided otherwise. Peter had never coped well with the oppressive feeling of unease, the frantic question: When did I see him last?

And then everything had to be reviewed. But usually, there were no more valuable details to lead one to the answer. He could also see this panic in Jake's features, which hardened as Nibs spoke. The way the pip's muscles tensed, his fingers clenched into fists, twitching slightly, and the venomous glance flashed over his shoulder at the older man. These taunts and trench warfare were daily - even in situations like this. Peter's gaze also slid to Nibs, who was facing him with a firm expression, still not trying to hide his doubts from Jake.

And he was right, whether the newcomer liked it or not. Scouring the forest for Luke was a considerable risk, especially since they wouldn't have been able to move along the treetops. Bushes, low trees, and greenery were too thick on the ground, so a prostrate body would hardly have been visible from above. But danger lurked below among deep green fronds and dry foliage that made the footsteps of clumsy searchers easily audible. And anything that was truly hungry would make no difference between a deer and a kicking lost person. They might all be skilled, good climbers, and quick to duck into hiding - but there was no hiding their scent and frightened breaths. Once the beasts caught you, or if someone fell into a trap through clumsiness - a second boy would already be injured. So Nib's piercing gaze was not entirely unfounded, but Peter was not new to the arguments between him and the Pips either.

The golden glowing eyes flew from Jake to Slightly, who stepped forward with a severe expression. It was a strange sight not to see the cheerful young man smiling - typically, the mischievous features were always twisted by a broad grin. A small warning signal for Peter that he did not intend to ignore. Questioningly, his attention now turned to Nibs, whose justification was not long in coming. Peter's brows drew together with seriousness and thoughtfulness as he listened to the lost.

Of course, they bickered; after all, no one wanted to be blamed for the mess... but they showed their leader at least one thing quite impressively: Luke's disappearance was not his fault. Peter almost laughed - almost - if this whole mess wasn't really about to happen. Who had come up with the damned idea to put a PIP on James Hook's coat? Surely this could only go wrong? And yes - Peter too would have liked to know why it was not a prodigal, an experienced fighter who had broken into the cabin... but someone who had only held a saber four or five times in his life. It was true that newcomers were not spared because of their inexperience - but they were not usually given the most critical tasks in a raid or when they played tricks. This had more to do with success than with their safety... but nevertheless, this unspoken rule had been in place ever since Peter brought in freshlings.

It was easy to see that the mood was building. It was clear from the discussion whose idea it had been, and obviously, Nibs was vehemently trying to avoid the accusations. Peter snorted; it resembled the growl of a wolf watching over its squabbling cubs... annoyed, a quiet warning that had not yet been barked out rudely.... but short of that, the pups were to overdo it. As Slightly rightly realized - if they were going to look for Luke and still help him, there was no time for pointless recriminations.

Peter ran his hand through his dark blond hair, whose honey tone was more the color of silvery streams under the moonlight that peeked out in places. Indeed, Jake's concern infected him, planting the uneasy tingle in the leader's stomach as well, so he simply could not refuse the request - even if he had wanted to. At the thought of Luke - for Peter still remembered both siblings well - something else also came up. Something that drove him to find the newcomer again.

Not so long ago, when he had reached out to Luke, his golden gaze fixed on the boy... something sparkled towards him. A small light settled in Peter's chest and continued to shine there. Because Luke had this extraordinary laugh you couldn't escape - you simply rejoiced with him. And oh, how little of it had been seen in the dirty alleys? Pan had watched the young man... the way he flitted from shadow to shadow, knowing how to hide from the dark figures, and watching him like that, it almost looked easy.

That's what Peter was looking for - a lightness that showed him that despite all the atrocities, children couldn't have their wings clipped. At least not all of them. Because then he was there, able to reach out with gold-dusted fingers and pick up their bent wings. He showed them how to fly, what mermaids were, that fairies existed, and what clouds tasted like. So much that the world out there could never give them.... and he could. The feeling still intoxicated him. So when dirty, disheveled Luke insisted on taking his brother - how could Peter say no? He wasn't acting selfishly, not kidnapping children, but giving them a better life. One where they didn't have to starve, weren't subjected to oppressive bullshit rules, and most of all one.... one in which they would never, never be disappointed by an adult. A life that didn't just leave them in loneliness. All that fear looked out at him from Jake's eyes - the aloneness he had been exposed to for too long. But no more...

"Fleeing into the woods." (...) "Crow and I saw him last." (Slightly)

Peter nodded; once more, he patted Jake's shoulder encouragingly and then turned to Slightly. Apparently, he had the most clue where Luke might be so far. However, the expression on Slightly's playful features did not please Peter at all.

"So what?" Peter helped out.

It wouldn't do Jake any good if Slightly spared him the truth. If he had seen Luke wounded, shot, or caught... now was probably the best time to spit it out.

"Hook and his horde of sea cucumbers were on our tail..." (...) "We split up because we wanted to lure the pirates into the forest as usual and fan them out there. They never go far, especially at night." (...) "But Luke had Hook's coat.... it's possible that..." (...Slightly)

This time the leader's brows did flip up in surprise."He had the coat?" there was clear recognition in that, even if it was small consolation for the price of Luke's disappearance.

Still... The fact that he had made it off the ship with the captain's coat was impressive enough. It would have been hard enough for a lost man, but Peter would have thought even less of a Pip for this feat. Still, it didn't bode well - for Peter knew his greatest nemesis well enough to gauge how far the stockfish would go for his red rag. A newcomer, someone who wouldn't have done him any good even as a hostage? No, he'd be dead by the time Hook got his hands on Pip. Peter rubbed his eyes, then nodded briefly as if to himself and addressed the entire group.

"So... we don't have all night. It's best we go back the same way you came. We'll split up, two at a time and three at a time," he explained, glancing over his shoulder.

It was not too far from the beach, but still a good walk. Luke could have stayed behind practically anywhere; perhaps he had triggered a trap and dared not call for help because the shouting would have attracted pirates or wild animals. They had many options in front of them - splitting up was practically mandatory to cover even a tiny part of the area. After all, the boys had also scattered to outwit Hook's men under cover of the forest.
"You go together..." At this, Peter pointed to the twins.

Their fighting skills were better utilized together than putting everyone on their own. Besides, he wanted to divide the groups as much as possible so that the squabblers were separated a little. Loud discussions at this hour were the last thing he needed right now.
"Crow, stay with Nibs, and I'll go with Jake and Slightly." It was a fair division, allowing Peter to make up for what Jake lacked in experience and ensure Nibs and the Pip didn't get on each other's nerves. In terse words, Peter explained the rest of the plan, sending the twins on a fairly straightforward rod through the forest and to the coast - urgently reminding them that Hook's men could still lurk somewhere. With a serious face, he continued on Crow and Nibs.

"You guys check out the traps. Try to stay as far east of the Tiki Forest as you can.... the river border has the most traps." this had to do with the pirates' constant border crossings. The gang of lousy barnacles hardly ever respected the border of the tribal territory if they even knew for sure where it was. For this reason, the Natives had peppered their lines with particularly pleasant surprises for uninvited guests. There were pitfalls so buried with branches and dry leaves that they were impossible to distinguish from the forest floor. Some served only to trap and were underpinned by plain pits, while in others, sharp stakes waited close together to impale whatever was foolish enough to step on the unstable lattice of twigs. 

But there were also mean mechanisms with snare traps, loops that dragged you up by one leg, or even nets from which you could only free yourself with particularly sharp knives. Peter knew the pitfalls well, had already triggered at least half of them himself, and... this was about a pip. The leader would have been more surprised if Luke had taken the western route through the Tiki forest and not fallen into a single trap.

"Me, Slightly, and Jake will take the quickest route to the beach, along the river, and then look further ahead in the Cove. We'll all meet behind the pirate camp by the low-hanging palm trees."

They all knew where that was - a place with even more palm trees than solid trees, and the sand was lost into the woods like finely scattered ash. It was pretty easy to hide among the slippery trunks at night, and after Luke had stolen the mantle of the stockfish, it was quite possible that they would keep him in the camp and not take him to the ship at all. However... after an attack, the whole crew would be busy with the repairs of the Jolly Roger, or at least having to put things in order.

Besides, Hook would hardly allow his bloodhounds to redeem the brazen thief who had stolen his coat. No, if they had caught Luke - he was not dead yet. More important was whether they could move him in his condition. The devil was creative when he wanted to inflict pain on someone... oh, Peter knew the hundreds of methods Hook knew how to torture with. Whether he had his prisoners slowly drowned, eaten alive by the mermaids and crocodiles, or cut open on the sharp-edged barnacles below deck. 

Perhaps all at the same time? Or were these possibilities still too merciful to him for a thief in the captain's cabin? Then he could have tied Luke to the figurehead or up in the crow's nest, where the gulls would eventually tear out his eyes and tongue, and the sun and wind would do their bit to burn all the life out the lad.

Peter's lips formed a severe line. If they hadn't caught Luke... Only injured, and the Pip had somehow escaped... Ah, the beasts on land smelled every drop of blood, and the monsters underwater—a beacon in the dark, every open wound a signal - an invitation to be eaten. Peter knew the feeling; he had not forgotten it somewhere deep in his chest even though he was insanely good at suppressing it. The loneliness, fingers pressing desperately on open flesh, blood everywhere... warm, sticky, shiny. The desperate plea to the gods, ancestors, whoever - may they let you come home, survive.

Oh yes, the fear of death was horrible; it tasted bitter, gummed up the senses like tar, and made one unreceptive to everything else. To think that Luke might be feeling that way right now... Peter shook his head slightly; he straightened his shoulders and nodded once around the room. "Objections?" he asked half-heartedly, but as golden eyes, flecked with forest and meadow, slid over his audience. Presumably, no one dared to object. Peter had decided; regardless of whether they accompanied him, he and Jake would now look for Luke. And didn't they all want to be like him in some way? None of his loyal companions would have let him go alone, and neither, presumably, would Jake, albeit with more protest. But in the end, they had followed him, this stubborn pig-headed man.

"Come on, let's go," he muttered under his breath, turning on his heel.

Knowing Slightly and the Pip behind him, Peter led the way, and soon they parted company with the other lost men. Their path led right past the foot of Nevermountain, skirting the tribal areas and sparing themselves at least a small part of the caution Crow and Nibs had to take not to fall into a trap and encounter any of the redskins. Peter kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure that Slightly and Pip were still behind him and keeping an eye out for a small figure.

Luke, the lad, always wore his skipper's cap... perhaps that could help them as they scanned the area. But the more large leaves Peter lifted to look under as they passed, the more confident he became that Hook had got hold of the pip. He wasn't surprised - after all, the Lost had stolen the Captain's beloved blood-red coat. Oh, how Peter would have loved to see the wrinkled barnacle's face.