Before Never

This is a tale you may think you know,

one of magical fairies,

mermaids,

and pirates,

as presented in works of fiction.

But be assured, the characters in this story

did in fact live and breathe.

Some still do.

The exact dates in this story

are not of consequence,

the precise latitude and longitude undisclosed.

This story unfolds in a small town tucked away

on a sliver of land, dwarfed by a vast sea,

loomed over by endless skies harboring

countless stars,

all of which surround an ominous stretch of

geography known to locals as...

the Neverlands.

A most foreboding place, the Neverlands,

ne of great mystery, darkness,o

and most of all, tragedy.

As one might deduce,

this tale is not out to charm or comfort,

and it makes no promises of happily ever after.

But it will be what it must.

We begin on a Friday night as the Darling family

eceives an unexpected visitor.r

Peter breaks through.

It's Friday.

It's Friday?

Huh.

Why did I think it was Sunday?

Forgot again, Pan?

This cannot happen again.

Sunday is Sunday for a reason.

Hm.

Son, get Alexander.

Oh, uh, almost forgot.

Um, the boys at the Treehouse got this for Wendy.

It's um--

That's uh, that's supposed to be a-- a W for Wendy,

not an M for mother.

See?

Give it to me. I'll hand it to her.

Um, I was hoping I could give it to her.

Uh, say hello.

Um, I promised the boys.

Boys.

It's a nice gesture, Pan,

but it's not possible to see my daughter right now.

You comprehend, yes?

Yes.

Yes.

I'll just give it to her the next time I see her

at the Treehouse, which will probably be

tomorrow night, 'cause it's Friday, not Sunday.

So it'll be at our party, weekly party,

which is on Saturday, which is tomorrow.

So if she comes, I'll give it to her then.

Fine.

Michael says hello.

He really wishes he could be here at your party.

But you thought it was Sunday.

Why would he mention our party?

Huh? I made up that last part.

He does say hello though.

Special payment, sir.

Your week's compensation early.

B-- because it's Friday.

Is everything okay here, Mr. Darling?

All good, Alexander.

Okay, Pan, please remember

that your presence here jeopardizes our discretion.

Goodnight.

What a fucking fruitcake!

7, 6, 5--

Wendy's story.

4, 3.

Now open your eyes.

Focus on the motion of the time piece

in front of you.

Back and forth.

You feel yourself coming back quicker now.

And two.

When we reach the bottom of the count,

you will hear the sound of a bell.

And when you hear that bell,

the gift will be yours forever,

and it will give you power over that nastiest of habits.

And one.

Thank you so much, James.

See you next time.

Seasonal cough, uh.

You philistine.

How you drink this black swill,

Smee, I will never know.

Used to be heavy cream and many sugars.

That is, until you rewired my head.

I reside in your head, Smee,

and it is a dark and lonely cavern.

Mm.

I spoke to Starkey.

The gentleman Starkey.

So, how is your old partner in crime fighting?

I'm really sorry, James.

If I was still on the inside--

No, no, no apologies, Smee.

Even your messages void of hope give me hope.

Well, then persistence wins the war.

Persistence?

There is a tapeworm in the bowels of our society,

Smee.

And my persistence is in my belief that I will

sprout another hand

and therefore, have two hands

to grab the tapeworm by the tail

and rip it out.

Persistence in your quest then.

Poetic, yes?

I wonder, James, if you couldn't use

a little distraction, something to occupy

your thoughts?

Well, well, well.

Mr. Smee pays a visit with a bag full of intrigue.

How well do you know the Darling family?

Darlings? Uh, well off, well connected.

Mm-hmm.

Of course, all their parties.

Sylvia had an invite once, but I--

We didn't attend.

Otherwise, I don't know them.

I have recently found myself in their employ.

The daughter, Wendy Darling, was attacked

a few nights back, almost abducted.

Seeing it was the Darlings, my copper buddies were told

to jump and jump fast.

The long and short,

Ms. Darling was at her parents' home

at one of those very parties that you mentioned.

She took a walk, went out for some air.

It was during that night walk that she was attacked.

Luckily, there was a visitor that showed up that night,

scared off the assailant, allowing Wendy Darling

to get away.

Boy's name is Peter Pan, he runs the Treehouse

on the east side of town.

Eh, it's a special home for addicts, drunks,

people who've hit a rough patch of water.

Pan had come by the Darling house

to bring Wendy a gift, a necklace.

She volunteers at the Treehouse.

Pan's outside.

Largely, due to Michael, the youngest, being

stashed there by the family.

He's been struggling with some substance abuse issues.

It's okay.

Why do I get the feeling

that you need something, Smee?

Need something namely from moi?

From what we gather, sometime between Pan leaving

the house and Wendy Darling returning from her walk,

she was attacked, and he intervened.

Run, Wendy, run!

And took a shot to the skull.

Not sure if it's the noggin knock

or the experience of it all, but Pan can't recall anything

of use from that night.

And you didn't see them?

No.

Wendy, what were you doing out there in the dark anyway?

I don't know.

Ugh, what is that boy doing here?

Peter!

Wendy.

And before you ask,

Ms. Darling did not see the assailant.

She had her head covered.

But she did say that she heard a woman's voice.

A woman?

Was she nearby or was she the attacker?

One and the same.

And what did she say?

Uh, I wrote it down.

"Dirty damsels in distress deserve damnation."

Hmm, twisty.

The chief sent over some badges to question Pan,

nothing.

Chief went over himself questioned Pan

and still nothing.

So they brought in the great and powerful Mr. Smee.

Cue the great and powerful.

And did your gumshoes do the dance with Pan?

Many dances, many dance cards filled and yet--

Nothing.

Nothing.

Dissociative amnesia.

I will take your word for it, sir.

Smee, I help Tourette's patients not scream

motherfucker in church.

I help drinkers not drink, smokers not smoke,