Belle tugged Gwen forward amidst the commotion and forced her to duck under the bar counter. Peter and Crocker had unleashed chaos as the men charged at them. They fired bullets. Peter as agile as a feline took men twice his size down with ease. She had never seen him fight before, but now knew Skul had trained him well. Whatever strength and skill the mad scientist had imbued into him was on full display. And horrifyingly enough, Peter was smiling, a mad glint in his eyes.

Crocker was the opposite, stone-faced but nailed every shot he released. Gwen had to think it was something to do with the ticking sound she heard. It was a strange tune that somehow turned Crocker into a precision shooter.

Watching the two of them fight was distracting. They were so cohesive, Peter tackling the men down with swift kicks angling them such as Crocker shot them square. Correction, tranquilised. She did not know when he swapped guns, but he was not killing them. Was he being merciful towards her?

The bartender begun dialing the police in panic. Belle swiped her bag, as did Gwen and rushed out the bar. The men had been taken care of, and Peter and Crocker followed behind them. However, just in the nick of time Peter's ears perked, she saw a flash of panic in his eyes. He tugged Belle and Gwen down to the ground before an ear-splitting explosion rocked the ground.

Gwen's face pressed into the dirt, her body vibrated with shock. She lost her ability to hear for a moment. She felt heat. Immense heat coming from ahead. She tilted her head and saw the flaming body of their four-wheel drive. Someone had set it aflame.

Peter stood up and helped Gwen to her feet. She was unsteady and leaned against him for support. Belle screamed a curse, but Gwen could hardly hear her. There was a ringing in her ears. Crocker was frowning, she took the slight display of emotion as a sign he was mad. Peter's eyes weren't on the car but on the two bikes that were speeding off down the road, the men who caused of the explosion.

"Croc, I want those bikes," Peter said. He was not smiling. Gwen knew he meant what she thought he did.

Crocker locked the sharpshooter in his hand. Gwen heard ticking. "Close her eyes," Crocker said.

The moment Peter's fingers pressed her eyelids shut, she heard two shots fired. Her hearing had returned enough for her to wince, Peter held her tight.

Those were not tranquilizers. He killed them.

Her blood ran cold. Peter did not remove his hand until she heard bike engines in front of her. Belle and Crocker had retrieved the bikes from the dead men. Gwen felt too uneasy to ride them, but what choice did she have?

"Let's get out of here," Peter said, rubbing Gwen's back gently. She nodded.

Soon they were speeding around a dark road. Gwen was vaguely aware of the two prostate bodies they passed.

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Gwen lost track of the time. They rode on and on in the secluded darkness, the only light coming from the bikes' headlights. She was holding onto to Peter, her cheeks pressed against his coat. A strange numbness encompassed her nerves. The mess that had started out of nowhere and ended so quickly. The byproducts, their vehicle destroyed and two men dead.

To think about the calmness of the three of them to kill without a second thought. It made her head throb. Peter used to force children to their dooms. Yes, it was horrible. However, the idea of him killing people directly filled her with more dread. Did he do her a favour by asking Crocker to carry out the deed? What if the next person in line of shot was James? She shivered at the thought.

A few moments later they had pulled up in an abandoned shack for a break. Gwen was sore from riding, and her entire mind was a jumble. She noticed the three of them did not look much better. They were weary, stressed at the change of plans.

Belle pried open the rotted door to the wooden cabin and stepped in, inspecting the place. Once she decided it was fine and slumped onto the floor, did they enter. The small cabin had nothing but empty barrels for tools, cobwebs and mould. But it was safer than riding the streets all night.

Crocker was busy outside, wasting no time to calculate their alternative routes and plan of action. His sole duty was to get them to Skul and ensure they did so incognito. Now, with the minor commotion, the police could be on to them. Belle had flicked open her laptop, biting her lips, she looked more distressed that any of them. She was blaming herself for this entire ordeal.

Peter knelt beside Gwen. "Are you hurt?" He asked, inspecting her. Gwen's ankle that was still healing throbbed, besides that she had a couple of cuts from dropping to the ground so suddenly.

"Nothing serious. I'm fine really," Gwen hated the fact that the rest of them looked like they had everything under control, leaving her as a liability. Peter narrowed his eyes, but did not press further.

"You should rest," he said, patting her head.

Gwen was exhausted, but she tried her best to hide it. She probably looked like crap though, since Peter had seen through her facade. He sighed and sat beside her, tugging her head slightly so it dropped on his shoulder.

"Sleep. Don't worry. I'll be here," he said, slipping his hand into hers. The gesture reminded her of the time she did the same, long ago when he was suffering from a fit of dread. She sat beside him till the sun rose, his head on her shoulder. They were still enemies then, but perhaps that very day was a turning point.

She realised it now. Back then, she needed to protect him. She still wanted to, for sure. However, she failed to notice he was doing the same for her. He wanted to protect her, hence why he left. Now back in her arms, he was still the steady shoulder she leaned on. They were each other's pillars.

They fit together like jagged pieces with complementary sides. It felt right. There was a stirring in her chest. Something that heaved deeper than desire.

He was tortured. He was insane. He was a killer. Yet he believed in her, and she believed in him.

Was there something more than trust between them?

Sleep caressed her, tugging her into subconscious. There was so much at stake, worries and fears. Yet as long as she had his hand in hers, she would be okay. She needed him as much as he needed her.

"Peter..." She murmured in a slur, somewhere between falling asleep.

"Yeah?" He muttered, she felt him drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I... don't know... what I'll do without... you," she trailed off, soon encompassed by lethargy, and dropped to sleep.

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Peter stared at Wendy's features, her chest heaving slowly, deep in sleep. Her words struck a chord. He replayed them in his head, wondering if she simply was tired and did not mean them. He hoped not because for the briefest moment, it looked like she felt the same irresistible need, the same affection.

Peter could feel Belle's stare. She gave him an apologetic smile, very unlike her.

"You're serious about her, aren't you?" She asked, her eyes softening as if she knew the answer. Peter averted his gaze, redness rising to his cheeks, but did not respond.

"But... You know people like us... Shouldn't get too involved with others," Belle added, guilt in her features, referring to what just happened.

He knew of the dangers. It was the sole reason he forced himself to leave Wendy behind. Even now, all he was doing was getting her into more trouble.

I don't know what I'll do without you.

Her words were absurd. She was better off without him. He just had to let go. Then again, would leaving hurt her even more?

Peter stared at his hand, clenching and unclenching his fists. Then his eyes landed on the pendant dangling from his neck. The dangers of being with him all stemmed from the monster they had turned him into since birth. How could he undo that? He was no human. Someone like him could only destroy, not protect.

He extracted his hand out of Wendy's grasp. Removing his jacket, he made a makeshift pillow and made her rest her head on it.

"I'm going out for a bit," he murmured, Belle shrugged, folding her arms, ready to doze off herself.

He stepped out of the shed to see Crocker sitting on the ground, leaning against the outer wall of the shed. He looked to be done with his info relay to Skul. Now he stared distantly at the inky sky. There was a subtle, forlorn look to his gaze.

Peter did not like him. Not one bit. For various reasons. He cursed himself knowing that one of those reasons was that Crocker was whatever Skul wanted him to be. Would it have been different if he hadn't failed? Would Skul have stayed?

Peter clenched his fists hard to erase the thought from his head. Skul was a backstabbing maniac. He was better off without him. Skul ruined him forever. Pulled him into a dark, agonizing abyss he thought he would never climb out. However, he did. It was Wendy's outstretched hand that tugged him out, made him realize.

Crocker turned to Peter, haunting eyes meeting one another.

Perhaps Crocker was better off without Skul too.

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A/N: Hey there, Lost Boys. Sorry for posting this one a little late, been really busy lately. Stay tuned for the next chapter. It will be out on 3 September 2020. Leave a vote, comment and share if you liked this chapter!