Terry Brooks - The Hook (1991)

"You're so cocky, aren't you?" Hook sneered. His hook brushed the stone and sparks flew. "But, you know, you're not really Peter Pan. You know that, don't you? You're Peter Banning! Yes! Peter Banning, remember?"

A hint of doubt crept into Peter's eyes.

"You're Peter Banning," Hook went on hurriedly. "And this, Mr. Banning, is all a dream. It's not real. It's just your imagination. It has to be, mmm? Doesn't rational thought say it must? And aren't you a man of rational thought? It must be that you're simply asleep!"

Peter's face was inches from the grindstone.

"When you wake up," Hook continued with a sneer, "you will be fat, old Peter Banning, a cold, selfish man who runs and hides from his wife and children at every opportunity, who's obsessed with success and money! You have lied to everyone, haven't you? Yourself, especially. And now you would pretend to be Peter Pan? Shame on you!"

Peter's strength was fading rapidly now, his fighting power flown away with the last of his happy thoughts, the reality of who and what he had been recalled by Hook's words. Was he really any different now? Wasn't he just playing at being Peter Pan?

"You are a disgrace!" Hook taunted.

The Pan sword fell from Peter's hand. At the entrance to the shop, the Lost Boys stared at one another helplessly.

Then Jack leaped forward to crouch next to his father, just out of Hook's reach, his elfin face creased with sudden determination.

"I believe in you, Dad," he cried out. "You are the Pan."

"I believe in you, too, Daddy," Maggie repeated at his elbow.

And then the Lost Boys took up the refrain, speaking it with such conviction that it could not be ignored. Peter glanced past Hook and saw the belief mirrored in their eyes. Ace, Latchboy, Pockets, Thud Butt, Too Small, No Nap, Don't Ask, and all the others, saying it over and over again.

I believe in you! You are the Pan!

And suddenly he was again-for the strength of belief in their voices had transferred itself to him and become his own.

He surged back to his feet, throwing Hook off and tumbling him to the floor. Hook's sword fell from his hand and a look of shock twisted his angular face. As he tried to retrieve his fallen weapon, Peter snatched up the Pan sword and blocked his way.

Hook blanched and froze.

Peter hesitated, then reached down carefully for Hook's sword, flipped it about and offered it back, hilt first.

"Curse your eternal good form!" Hook screamed.

He attacked without a word. They fought their way out of the blacksmith's and through the soup kitchen, Hook gasping and panting with every step.

"Peter Pan," Hook huffed in genuine despair. "Who and what art thou?"

"I am youth! I am joy!" Peter cried and crowed wildly.

Moments later they surged into Pirate Square. Swords clashed one final time, and then Peter zipped away to land in front of the crocodile clock. Jack and Maggie and the Lost Boys appeared at their heels, quickly spreading out to ring the combatants. Hook whirled guardedly, staring from face to face.

And suddenly there was the sound of ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Hook cringed. Jack and Maggie and the Lost Boys had pulled out watches and clocks of varying sizes and shapes and kinds, all ticking and tocking and chiming and beeping. The sound became a cacophony, and Hook shrank from it in terror.

Peter moved to stand before him. "Hello! Is this the great Captain Hook?" He glanced over his shoulder at the crocodile tower. "Afraid of a dead, old croc?" His voice became a child's. "Tick-tock, tick-tock, Hook's afraid of the old, dead croc."

The Lost Boys were quick to pick up the rhyme. "Tick-tock, tick-tock, Hook's afraid of the old, dead croc!"

Hook wheeled in fury, teeth clenched. He rushed at Peter to engage him, but Peter parried the blow easily and skipped away.

"No, it's not the croc after all!" Peter shouted suddenly. Then his voice lowered. "I think James Hook is afraid of time, ticking away…"

This was too much for Hook, who threw himself on Peter with a howl of anguish.

The battle was joined anew, Hook and Peter crashing together, swords ringing. Hook thrust wickedly, but Peter was too quick. He turned the blow aside, twisting his own sword so deftly that the captain's was swept from his hand. A second twist, so swift the eye could barely follow it, and Hook's wig and hat were flicked from his head through the air to land atop an astonished Too Small. Weaponless and hairless, exhausted and broken, Hook fell to his knees.

The point of the Pan sword came up to rest against his throat.

Hook glanced aside to see his hat and wig resting atop Too Small's head. "Peter, my dignity, at least," he pleaded. "You took my hand. You owe me something."

Peter stepped over to Too Small, retrieved the hat and wig, tossed aside the hat, and handed the wig to Hook, who clutched it before him in his hands in the manner of a disobedient child.

Peter's sword came back up to Hook's throat. His voice was stem. "You killed Rufio. You kidnapped my children. You deserve to die, James Hook."

Hook swallowed, then lifted his chin defiantly. "Then strike, Peter Pan! Strike true!"

There was fire in Peter's eyes as he beheld his enemy helpless at last, and a fierce rush of exhilaration surged through him. All about, the crowd held its collective breath-Lost Boys and pirates alike.

Peter's arm drew back.

Hook closed his eyes. "Finish it!"

But somehow Peter couldn't bring himself to do it. Neither the part that was Banning nor the part that was Pan could strike down a helpless enemy-even one as evil as Captain Hook.

He felt Maggie's hands on his arm.

"Let's go home, Daddy," she whispered. "Please? He's just a mixed-up old man without a mommy."

"Yeah, let's get out of here, Dad," Jack agreed, coming up to stand beside her. "He can't hurt us anymore."

Hook's eyes snapped open and tears welled up. "Oh, bless you, child," he murmured gratefully. He placed his wig back on his head. "Good form, Jack!"

Peter lowered his sword and stepped back, eyeing Hook coldly. "Okay, Hook-take your ship and go: I don't want to see your face in Neverland again. Promise?"

Hook swallowed whatever was threatening to choke him and with considerable effort managed a reluctant nod. Peter turned away, sheathing the Pan sword and taking his children's hands in his own. A cheer went up from the Lost Boys.

But they had missed the treacherous glint in Hook's eye. Something clicked within the sleeve of his weaponless hand, and a razor-sharp blade sprang forth from its concealment into his palm.

"Fools!" he cried. "James Hook is Neverland!"

Then he was on his feet, rushing to the attack. Peter barely had time to shove Jack and Maggie out of the way before the captain was on him. Hook slammed Peter back against the crocodile tower and pinned him fast.

"You lied, Hook,'' Peter declared through clenched teeth. He could not reach his sword. "You broke your promise."

There was a madness in the captain's red eyes. "Forever-more, whenever children read of you it will say, 'Thus perished Peter Pan!' "

And he thrust his claw at Peter.

But just as it seemed that all was lost, there was Tink, darting out of nowhere to deflect the blow just enough that it missed Peter and lodged instead in the belly of the crocodile. Gasses and dust spewed forth in a cloud, blinding Hook. He struggled to pull free and could not. The crocodile began to shake and shudder, and the clock tumbled out of its jaws, barely missing Hook as it struck the ground behind him with a thud. The tower began to rock, then to teeter. A moaning rose, as if a ghost had been awakened. The Lost Boys drew back. The pirates who still remained began to scatter, fleeing with wild cries. Peter pulled Jack and Maggie away.