All language subtitles for The.Librarians.The.Next.Chapter.S02E03.1080p.WEB.h264-BAE

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Original subtitles

��Are�you�still�at�it,�darling?

�I�brought�you�some�tea.

Darling!

���And,�of�course,�the�police ���have�been�hopeless�as�per.

��But�you�say�you�are�some�kind �of�specialist?

��Yes.

And�I�promise�you,�Lady�Chamley,

if�anyone�can�find�your�husband,

�-�it's�me�and�my�team. ��-�Oh.

��Well,�that's�most�reassuring.

Thank�you,�Ms.�Cornwall.

So,�if�I�may�ask,

uh,�where�might�they�be, ���your�team?

�Uh,�I'll�be�back�in�one�second.

�Sorry.

�Vikram,�where�are�you?

��Hmm.

��Charlie,�funny�story.

I�was�looking�for�a�book

on�the�reproductive�cycle of�crabs

��when�I�was�completely ��distracted--

The�door,�get�through�it.

�-�Now. -��Yes,�yes,�yes.

�Coming,�dear.

��No�need�to�get�your, uh,�nunchucks�in�a�twist.

��Do�you�mind�holding�that�one? �Can't�find�one's�hole.

��Where�are�we?

Bloomsbury.�Hmm.

���Yes,�at�the�home�of--wait, ��where�are�the�others?

��Oh,�Connor�and�Lysa.

Um,�they're�on�their�way.

���Ah,�here�they�are.

���Oh.

��That�was�a�close�one. Sorry,�I'm�late.

�I�had�to�find�my�jacket ��with�pockets.

�Couldn't�find�my�other�jacket, but�in�the�field,

��-�pockets�are�what�you�need. -�Uh-hmm.

�And�we're�still�missing�Connor.

���Oh,�he�went �to�go�change�his�shoes.

���And�why�has�he�gone ��to�change�his�shoes?

Because�he�got�new�shoes.

And�he�said,�and�I�quote,

��"These�are�my�cool�new�shoes

���and�London�is�a�cool�city,

���and�I'm�gonna�wear ���my�cool�new�shoes."

���London�town.�Cool!

�Hey,�check�out ���my�cool�new�shoes.

�-�Hmm. �-

��-�No,�no,�no,�no,�no. ���-

��This�is�not�how�this ��is�gonna�go.

��Firstly,�you're�late.

�Secondly,�you�have�taken�three ���magic�doors�instead�of�one.

��-�So? ��-�So?

What?�You�just�think�magic�doors ���just�come�for�free?

���I�have�to�fill�in�paperwork every�single�time�it's�fired�up.

�-�You�just�tripled�my�workload. -�But�my�pockets.

��-�My�shoes.�My�crabs. �-�I�don't�care.

-�Go.�Go. �-�Okay.�Oh.�I'm�sorry.

�Take�your�time. �Tell�me�what�happened.

���Uh,�Chris-- Sir�Christopher�Chamley,

he's�my�husband.

��He�was�working�late.

��He's�been�working�late�a�lot �at�the�moment.

Uh,�it's�an�international ���merger�at�the�bank.

���Uh,�well,�may�I�top�you�up?

��Marvelous.�Thank�you.

�And,�uh,�you,�my�dear?

Uh,�yes,�please.

�Uh,�what�bank�does�he�work�for?

Oh,�he's�the�head�of�Charkham's.

�And,�uh,�he's�been�successful.

��Terribly�successful, �but�at�a�price.

��-�What�sort�of�price? ��-�Chris�used�to�be�such�fun.

�The�sort�of�man�who�never�lost ���touch�with�his�inner�child.

��But�the�work,

the�sheer�volume ��of�never-ending�work.

��And�so,�when�I�saw�him�jump,

��I�assumed�he�had�tried�to...

��And�when�you�looked, ��he�was�gone?

Uh-hmm.�No�body,�no�sign�of�him.

��Hmm.

���Even�after�all�these�years,

and�that�wonky�old�face,

I�still�love�him�so�much.

Please�tell�me�you�can�find�him.

�If�anyone�can�find�him, ���we�can,�I�swear�it.

���Thank�you�so�much.

���Life�without�Chris �would�be�just�so�gray.

��Lady�Chamley, ��um,�did�anything�else

���unusual�happen�last�night?

Yes,�yes, just�before�Chris�jumped,

��I�heard�the�trill�of�a�flute.

��LYSA�PASCAL: �Okay.�Oh,�God.

Huh.�Interesting.

��The�dust�on�the�ledge�doesn't ��match�the�dust�anywhere�else.

- ���-�Okay.�See�these�symbols?

��Uh...

��A�triangle�cut�into�a�circle.

��What�is�that, �like�a�gang�sign?�Cult?

���VIKRAM�CHAMBERLAIN: ��None�that�I'm�familiar�with.

�Ah,�okay.�Pull�me�back.

And�see?

Pockets.

�Useful.

�Yo,�Librarians.

���So,�down�there,�front�door.

-�See�what�I�see? ���-�LYSA:�Uh,�drain.

-�No.�No. -�Trash.

���Ooh,�a�drain�full�of�trash.

A�Smart�doorbell.

��So,�I�pulled�the�audio�off�it �from�midnight,

�listen�to�this.

The�flute�trill, ���just�like�she�said.

��The�flute,�the�dust, ��the�symbols,

what�does�any�of�it�mean?

�Okay.�So�my�app�is�not �registering�the�dust�as�magic,

but�it�definitely �does�not�belong�in�Bloomsbury.

���12%�is�ground�grape�seeds,

��so�that's�not your�average�London�dust.

�According�to�the�London ���newspaper�columns,

�Sir�Christopher�Chamley ���is�the�fifth�banker

��to�have�gone�missing over�the�past�two�weeks.

���Oh,�and�get�this,�Charlie.

��Although�the�bankers �did�not�work�in�the�same�bank,

�they�all�lived ��within�a�mile�radius

�of�Christopher�Chamley's�home.

I�know�that,�sir.

And�so�would�you, �if�you�read�my�briefing�notes.

���-�Briefing�notes,�Charlie? ���-�Yes,�sir.

��Before�each�mission, I�produce�briefing�notes

�on�everything�we�need�to�know.

��Please�tell�me�someone�reads ���my�briefing�notes.

Do�you�know�how�much�time �I�spend�on�the�briefing�notes?

��No,�but�if�you�wrote �that�time�down,

��then�I�would�promise ��to�read�it--

��Sorry,�Charlie.�Um,�if�I�knew �you�did�briefing�notes,

�I�swear�I�would�have�read�them.

In�fact, I'll�read�them�right�now.

��-�Thank�you,�Connor. -�Where�are�they?

�-�In�your�pigeon�holes. �-�I�have�a�pigeon�hole?

�-�There's�pigeon�holes? ���-�There's�pigeons?

��Do�you�have�any�idea �how�much�time�and�effort�I�put

���into�being�a�good�guardian?

�How�exhausting�it�is�to�always ��be�the�one�who�holds�every--

you�have�no�idea �what�I'm�talking�about,�do�you?

���The�impulsive�ones.

�You�know�what?�Sometimes�I�wish

��I�didn't�have ���to�be�the�responsible�one.

���- ��-�Oh!

�What�the�hell�is�that?

The�Trill�Tip-Off Time-To-Go�Alarm.

��London�is�the�most�surveilled ���city�in�the�world,

���so�I�fed�the�sound ���of�the�flute�trill

�into�all�the�monitoring�systems within�a�one-mile�radius

���of�Sir�Christopher's�house, ���and�bingo.

-�It's�detected�a�trill? ��-�Live!�Happening�right�now!

Come�on.

�No,�don't�jump!

��Guys.

�LYSA:�Charlie!

��Hey!

��Step�forward�into�the�light.

�Slowly.

You're�that�guy�I�tried�to�save.

Hey!�Hey!

Hey!�Hey!

Sir�Christopher, ��Lady�Chamley�sent�me.

�We�have�to�get�you�out�of�here.

No!�No�grown-ups�allowed!

��No�grown-ups�allowed!

���What�are�you�talking�about?

���- -�No.�No,�don't.

���What�is�this�place?

���Can�you�please�stop�crying?

�Oh,�oh,�I'm�it.�I'm�it.

Ready�or�not,�I'm�coming!

��- �-�Okay.

�So�I�guess�he�did�get�in�touch ���with�his�inner�child�again.

�Great.�Perfect.

�Now�I�just�need�to�find ���a�way�out.

���- ���-�Come�on,�come�on.

�Come�on.�Stupid�thing.

���Okay.�I�have�been�scanning ���for�teleportations,

�portal�manifestations, and�multiversal�fissures.

Okay,�okay.�I've�widened �the�search�for�the�flute�trill

-�across�all�of�London... �-�But�nothing.

�But�nothing.�Dead�end.

�Okay.�Have�we�ruled�out �supernatural�abductions

��or,�uh,�poltergeist,�sprites?

�If�the�house�was�built ���on�sacred�grounds,

���uh,�druids,�pagans,�Romans?

���Okay.�Think.�Connor,�think.

She�can't�have�just�disappeared.

���I�won't�let�her�disappear.

�-�Vik. �-�Where�have�you�been?

��Any�sign�of�Charlie?

�No,�not�yet,�but�I�bring�hope.

This�is�Charlie's�candle,

���taken�from�the�Candle�Room ���inside�The�Library.

���Every�Custodian,�Librarian,

��and�Guardian �has�one�burning�within,

��representing ��their�force�of�life.

���And�as�long as�their�candle�burns...

���-�Charlie's�alive. -�Oh,�thank�God.

���-�But�where�is�she? ���-�Observe.

���A�reference�volume ��of�animal�footprints,

�wild�and�domesticated.

��Now,�does�this�look�familiar?

Triangle�inside�a�circle,

���just�like�the�prints�we�saw ���on�the�windowsill.

Goat�hoof-prints? �Is�that�what�they�are?

Wait,�how�did�a�goat�get onto�a�windowsill�in�Bloomsbury?

And�why�only�two�prints?

Is�it�a�two-legged�goat?

- �-�Okay,�results�are�coming�in.

�on�the�dust�from�the�windowsill 'cause�I�just�could�not�decipher

���some�of�this�plant�matter.

Okay.�Here�we�go.

��Dried�ground�leaves.

And�what�kind�of�leaves?

��Uh,�leaves�from�olive�trees.

Ah,�olive�trees.

���And�the�other�plant�matter

from�the�dust�composition was�grape�seeds.

Huh.�Olive�trees and�grape�seeds.

So�what?�The�dust�is�from�Italy?

-�Greece? -�Greece.

And�very�specifically,�the�trees

�are�from�the�south�side of�Mount�Olympus.

�Mount�Olympus?

�Could�that�suggest�a�Greek�god?

��But�which�one?

�Oh,�of�course!

How�could�I�have�been�so�stupid?

It�is�so�painfully�obvious.�Hmm?

The�hoof�prints, ��the�trill,�the�flute.

���Oh,�rather,�the�pan�pipes.

It's�Pan.

���It�is�the�god,�Pan.

���That�is�a�terrible�drawing.

���- ���-

���I�mean,�talk�about ��too�good�to�be�true.

���All�right,�I'll�bite.

��Okay.

���What�the...

�Magic.

��Yay.

SIR�CHRISTOPHER�CHAMLEY: I�will�get�it�this�time.

�Sir�Christopher,�stop.

Sir�Christopher, ��you�have�to�snap�out�of�this!

��You�can't�play�with�us!

���-�Why�not? -�'Cause�you're�too�old.

��And�you're�too�ugly!

��Ugly,�ugly,�you're�too�ugly!

��-�Ugly!�Ugly! ���-�ALL:�Ugly!�Ugly!

��- ��-

��PETER�PAN:�Is�this�thing�on?

��Good.

��Good.

��So�tell�me,�children,

���are�you�having�a�fun�time?

��Yeah!

��Are�you�having�the�best�time?

��Yeah!

���Are�you�having�a�wild�time?

���PETER�PAN: �But,�wait,�what's�this?

�I'm�sensing�someone�here ���who�doesn't�belong.

���An�adult�spoiling�our�fun!

���And�what�do�we�say ��to�adults,�children?

���Boo�indeed.

Hello,�Charlie�Cornwall.

����Do�you�like�games?

�Because�I�know a�wonderful�game�to�play.

���It's�called �I'm�coming�to�get�you.

�Three,�two,�one.

�-�Run. �-

���Not�falling�for�that�again.

���- ��-�No.

���PETER�PAN: �Don't�you�know,�Charlie,

���friends�never�leave.

��Yeah?

���Well,�I'm�not�your�friend.

�Pan,�the�god�of�parties ���and�revels,

���but�also�of�chaos.

�And�not�just�any�old�chaos,�no,

not�your�run-of-the-mill �keep-that-away-from-me

get-that-out-of-my-house �kind�of�chaos.

���The�danger�with�Pan is�he�seduces�you

into�desiring�the�chaos, welcoming�it�in.

���Chaos,�wilderness, �lawlessness,�addiction.

���Oh,�Connor, the�kinds�of�parties�Pan�throws,

���they�would�devastate�minds,

���friendships,�love, �cities,�civilizations.

�But�he�died.�Pan�died.

�-�And�now,�he�is�back,�somehow. �-�How?

���How�do�you�resurrect�a�god? ���Start�what?

�-�Worshipping�it�again? �-�Hmm.�That�would�work,

�but�to�manifest ��enough�sacred�energy

��would�require the�devotion�of�millions.

��And�who�worships�Pan ���in�such�numbers�today,�hmm?

��Maybe�there's�a�clue �in�the�briefing�notes.

Charlie's�briefing�notes. ���Of�course.

�This�is�so�frustrating.

I�know�it�has�some�significance,

but�I�can't�find�anything �magic�about�it.

�How's�the�hacking�going?

�Uh,�I�am�almost �in�the�Bloomsbury�CCTV�network.

�They�are,�of�course,�excellent.

��They�chart�a�pattern �of�disappearing�bankers

�over�the�last�a�hundred�years.

���Every�20�years,�and�always the�same�part�of�London,

���six�bankers�vanish.

���So,�is�six�a�clue?

Is�six,�like,�Pan's�magic�number ��or�something?

Wait.�Six�bankers�every�20�years ��for�a�hundred�years,

���that's�30�bankers.

���That's�30�families ���being�left�behind.

���What�happened�to�them�all?

��Yes.�I'm�in.

���Okay.�So�there�were �at�least�three�cameras

�that�would�have�got�a�good�view ���of�Christopher's�apartment.

Uh,�aha!

��Oh,�look,�over�there. �See�the�shadow?

�There's�someone ���just�standing�out�of�frame.

���Let�me�see�if�I�can--whoa.

�Do�you�see�what�I�see?

��Yeah,�but�that's�impossible.

CONNOR�GREEN:�The�shadow. ���What's�it�missing?

���There's�no�one�casting�it.

���It's�just�a�shadow ��standing�on�its�own.

��Uh,�the�god�Pan�did�not�have ��a�detachable�shadow.

�So�maybe�it's�not�Pan.

��Also,�uh,�these�are�leg-legs, �not�goat�legs.

�Not�that�I'm�the�expert

���on�the�animal-human-hybrid �magic�woo-woo.

���Hey,�I�figured�out �a�Connor�thing.

Turns�out,�not�that�hard.

Oh,�that�must�make�you�so�happy.

Only�the�happiest ���I've�ever�been.

����Oh.

�Did�the�dust�just�glow ��in�response�to�my�happiness?

���I'm�flying.

���I'm�thinking�happy�thoughts �and�I'm�flying.

����This�is�fairy�dust.

�I�thought�you�weren't�an�expert in�magic�woo-woo?

I'm�not, ��but�I've�read�the�storybooks.

The�detached�shadow,�woo.

��Missing�people�in�Bloomsbury.

-�The�pan�flutes. -�The�wrong�Pan.

��It's�not�the�god�Pan.

-�It's�Peter�Pan. ��-�Peter�Pan.

��Who?

�Clap�if�you�believe�in�fairies.

t�you're�telling�me, �this�Peter�Pan ���is�entirely�amoral,

self-centered,�deceitful, ��powerful,�seductive,

an�exceptional�swordsman who�can�also�fly,

���and�he�has�a�captive�fairy, and�is�also�an�immortal.

��And�I�thought ��the�god�Pan�was�bad.

I...never�thought of�it�like�that.

�Peter�Pan�as�a�villain. Way�to�ruin�my�childhood.

���Could�it�be�that�Peter�Pan

is�this�era's�incarnation �of�Pan�himself?

��Pan�took�many�forms.

��And�could�he�have�got�himself ��back�together

by�using�himself ���in�popular�culture?

��Yes.

�You�said�that�to�revive�a�god,

���they�would�need�worshippers ���in�their�millions.

��Peter�Pan,�he's�books,�plays, theme�parks,�videogames.

He�has-- is�loved�in�his�millions.

-�Millions.�Yeah. ���-�There�we�have�it.

���Modern�devotion�to�the�Pan,

�or�as�we�now�know�him, ���Peter�Pan.

���And�where�would�he ���have�taken�Charlie?

My�guess?

��-�Neverland. ��-�Excellent.

�And�where�exactly�would�someone �find�directions�there?

�You�can't�be�Peter�Pan. ��Peter�Pan�isn't�real.

��Of�course�I'm�real,�Charlie.

�I'm�as�real�as�any�boy�can�be.

���You're�from�a�book.

A�book�written�about�me.

The�greatest�boy�of�all,

���and�it's�all�true,�Charlie, �I�am�Peter�Pan.

���No,�you're�a�shape-shifting �goat-boy�psycho

��who�kidnaps�bankers.

��-�Lost�Boys. -�And�kills�them.

��I�didn't�kill�anyone.

�You�have�a�room ���full�of�skeletons.

��They�died�of�old�age. ��It's�what�humans�do.

It�isn't�my�fault ���that�all�children,

��except�one,�grow�up.

���But�they�weren't�children.

They�were�adults with�lives�and�families,

and�you�robbed�them�of�all�that.

�They�wanted�to�be�here.

��Just�as�you�want�to�be�here.

�I�do�not�wanna�be�here.

���But�you�wished�it, Charlie�Cornwall.

�I�heard�you�when�you�wished�it.

��"I�wish�I�didn't�have ���to�be�the�responsible�one."

�-�That's�what�you�said. -�How�did�you...

���And�now�you�don't.

�Now�you�can�be�a�child�forever.

��Okay.

��If�you're�Peter�Pan, then�where�is�Captain�Hook,�hmm?

���Where's�Tinkerbell?

��Captain�Hook�is�dead,

at�least�for�now,

�and�Tinkerbell, ��she's�around�here�somewhere.

��Sure.

�And�where's�Neverland?

���Where's�Neverland?

���Wendy,�you're�in�Neverland.

��You�just�have�to�look with�your�heart.

�It's�beautiful.

���And�it's�where�you�belong, �Wendy.

�Stop�calling�me�Wendy. ��My�name's...

What?�What�is�your�name?

�It's...

��-�It's�Wendy. ���-�Of�course�it�is.

���It�always�has�been.

��Look.�And�there's�Tinkerbell.

���Oh,�Peter, ���I�could�stay�here�forever.

��Right,�you�listen�up, you�little�fairy.

�- -�No,�of�course,

��I�didn't�fall ���for�the�Neverland�illusion.

���- �-�How?

Because�I'm�a�guardian,�and�we--

�wait...

��I�can�understand�you.

�Weird.

Because�I'm�Wendy,�right?

���- �-�Huh.

���Oh,�sorry, �didn't�mean�to�squeeze.

-�Is�that�better? ���-

��Good.�Now�listen�up.

���I've�read�the�book, I�know�the�rules,

and�if�I'm�Wendy,

�that�means�you�hate�me ��and�you�want�me�out�of�here.

���- ���-�Well,�guess�what?

���I�want�me�out�of�here�too,

which�means,�maybe�we�could�help �each�other�out?

���- �-�Good.

��Now�I'm�gonna�need�you�to�get ��a�message�out�of�here�for�me.

"Second�sun�to�the�right, �and�straight�on�till�morning."

�What�sort�of�vague,�imprecise,

��incomprehensible�coordinates ���are�those?

��If�Neverland�is�a�real�place,

there's�every�possibility ��to�exist�in�some�kind

of�extra-dimensional�space�or...

Can�anyone�else�hear...tinkling?

�What?�What�is�that?�What�is�it?

���Is�that�Tinkerbell?

�Tinkerbell?�Tinkerbell?

�-�Uh... ��-�Tinkerbell?

�- �-�You�wash�that�tongue

-�with�that�dirty�mouth. ���-

���Shh.�I�do�not�care how�far�you've�come�or�how�fast.

���There�is�no�excuse �for�gross�vulgarities.

���- �-�Sorry.�Sorry,�Vikram.

�You�speak,�uh--you�speak�fairy?

-�This�is�crazy. -�Well,�of�course,�I�do.

���It's�really�rather�similar ��to�a�unicorn.

���Hmm.�I�met�a�unicorn�once.

��Old�Bernard, drank�me�under�the�table.

Right,�here�goes.

���Ah,�I�see.�Uh,�I�apologize ���for�my�accent,�hmm?

But�let�me�ask�you.�Um...

�- ���-

-�Oh,�indeed?�And�she... ���-

-�Oh,�which�means�you... ���-

��-�Which�is�why�we... ���-

���I�think�that's�all perfectly�clear.

What�did�she�say?

Oh,�I'll�tell�you�along�the�way.

���Fairy�is�rather�complicated ��to�translate,

�but�basically, the�big�nasty�lady�squished�her,

�and�now�she�hates�her,

and�she'd�like�us ��to�take�the�nasty�lady�away.

�- �-�From?

��-�Neverland. ��-�Ah.

Actual�Neverland.

��We�are�going ��to�actual�Neverland.

��LYSA:�Hey,�you�glad�you�wore your�cool�new�shoes�now?

��CONNOR:�I�don't�know ��what�I�was�thinking.

���Of�course, �it's�raining�in�London.

��LYSA:�Actual�Neverland�sucks.

���Talk�about �don't�meet�your�heroes.

�- -�VIKRAM:�Tinkerbell�says

that�this�is�only �a�temporary�Neverland,

���that�Peter�Pan�lost�access ��to�his�realm.

��-�LYSA:�How? �-

���Tinkerbell�says�he�was�out �too�long�recruiting�Lost�Boys.

Vik,�from�now�on, ���please�start�every�sentence

with,�"Tinkerbell�says."

��Connor,�keep�a�sense of�the�danger�we�are�in,�please.

��Yeah.

���Well,�this�is�a�good�start.

��It's�not�even�locked.

�Nothing�suspicious�about�that.

�-�It's�a�trap. �-

Oh,�Neverland�is�"story-locked."

�Tinkerbell�told�me�that �if�we�wanna�get�into�Neverland,

we�have�to�become a�part�of�Peter's�story.

�So,�the�bankers became�Lost�Boys.

Charlie�has�become�Wendy.

�What?�Charlie�is�Wendy?

��Like,�in�a�nightdress �and�everything?

Oh,�that's�a�yes,�right?

���Okay.�So,�we�have�to�become ���part�of�Peter�Pan's�story?

���How�do�we�do�that?

I�brought�with�me from�The�Library

��the�finest�collection ���of�clothing

�and�costume�accessory.

��Now,�who's�up �for�a�bit�of�role�play?

���No.

�Presenting�Captain�James�Hook.

��Hmm.

�John�Darling,�at�your�service.

���And�introducing...

��-�Tick-tock. -

���Why�do�I�have�to�be �the�crocodile?

���'Cause�you're�the�only�one ���who�fit�the�jacket.

�Plus,�you�couldn't�pull ��off�this�hat.

I�feel�that�I�don't�look �much�different.

�Okay.�Well,�here�goes�nothing.

��-�Huh,�except�for�my�dignity. ���-�VIKRAM:�Onwards!

You�know,�if�the�bankers ���have�become�the�Lost�Boys,

��then�it�explains�why ���there's�always�six.

�In�the�original�story, there�were�six�Lost�Boys.

��But�why�is�Peter�Pan �stealing�boring�old�men

and�not�actual�children?

Ah.�Well,�I�have a�theory�on�that.

So�in�the�novel, ���if�the�Lost�Boys�ever�age,

���which�Peter�hates, ��he�"thins�them�out."

The�book�doesn't�exactly�explain �what�he�means�by�that.

But�now, he's�got�a�new�strategy,

�unlock�an�adult's�inner�child,

��and�that�inner�child �never�grows�up.

��Ah.�So,�if�you�begin ���as�a�boring�banker,

��then�getting�that�inner�child out�would�release

a�lot�of�youthful �pent�up�energy?

���Is�that�how�he�stays�young?

��Is�Peter�Pan�a�Party�Vampire?

��Him�and�Paris�Hilton. ��Interesting.

CONNOR:�So,�what�are�we�gonna�do when�we�find�Peter�Pan,�Captain?

�- ��-�Easy,�lad.

And�we'll�cut�him �from�gullet�to�gizzard!

��Bloody�hell,�Vik.�Calm�down.

��I'm�so�sorry. �I'm�not�sure�what�came�over�me.

�Too�flipping�right,�you�don't.

��And�stop�doing�that�terrible �English�accent,�Connor.

��-�It's�embarrassing. ��-�Ah.

��I--you�know, ��I�don't�think�I�can.

��I�seem�to�have�gotten�stuck.

��Why,�then,�I'll�keelhaul�you ���for�your�impudence!

��Ah.�Oh,�we�seem�to�be�getting ���locked�into�our�characters.

�Ah.�So,�you're�a�pirate ���psychopath.

�-�I'm�a�toff�Brit�and-- �-�Hmm.

��--Lysa�is...

��CONNOR:�Lysa?

��That�was�weird.

�Okay.�I�think�we�should�get�out �of�here�as�quickly�as�possible.

-�Agreed. �-�Arr!

��I�mean,�yes.

�Peter! �Uh,�I've�been�looking�for�you.

Here�I�am,�Wendy.

Aren't�you�having the�most�marvelous�time?

Oh,�so�marvelous,�Peter.

�-�Uh,�except... �-�Except�what?

��Tell�me,�Wendy,�for�no�child ��can�ever�be�sad�in�Neverland.

I�just�don't�wanna�share �a�boy�as�brave,

�and�bold,�and�brilliant ��as�you�are�with�anyone�else.

��I�just�can't�bear�it.

��Not�even�with�the�Lost�Boys.

�You�want�me�to�send�them�away?

I�know�you�can't.

��I�know�it�would�take �too�much�power.

There�is�nothing ���I�can't�do,�Wendy.

�I�am�more�bold, and�brave,�and�brilliant,

and�powerful�than�anyone in�the�whole�wide�world!

��The�cleverness�of�me!

���So,�you'll�send�them�home? �For�me?

I'll�do�anything�for�you,�Wendy.

��Except�that.

�Peter�Pan�hates�to�play�alone.

�That's�why�it's�called ���Neverland,

�because�my�friends�never�leave.

���And�when�they�die, ���which�you�all�will,

��I'll�go�out�and�get�new�ones.

���Lost�Boys, ��who's�ready�for�an�adventure?

��A�quest!�Let's�go�on�a�quest!

��There's�the�Mermaid's�Creek, �or�the�Ruined�Galleon,

���or�the�Great�Tree.

��Ooh.

��Or�how�about�the�Real�World?

�The�greatest�adventure ��of�them�all?

-�Vikram! ��-�Captain�Hook,�run!

���Peter�Pan, I�challenge�ye�to�a�duel.

PETER�PAN:�Captain�Hook.

��What�are�your�terms, you�old�codfish?

If�I�win,�you�release�all �your�prisoners�from�Neverland.

�And�if�I�win,�you�feed�yourself to�the�crocodile.

�Um,�I'm�not�really�sure ��how�that�would�work.

�Fear�not,�Lysa.

��I�am�one�of�history's ���greatest�swordsmen.

�Hmm.�I�accept.

Then�come�up�here ���and�fight�me,�bag-of-bones!

�I'll�cleave�you ���into�two�bits,�boy!

���Okay.�Now�that�Furry�Pants �is�distracted,

�-�let's�round�up�the�Lost�Boys. ��-�Good�idea.

�And,�um,�you�won't�eat ���any�of�them,�right?

���Connor.�No,�of�course�not!

��Oh,�silly�me.

���Vikram,�be�careful.

��You�can't�trust�him.

�I�trust�only�cold,�hard�steel.

���Get�away�from�my�Librarian.

Wendy�can't�fight�Peter. ��That's�non-canonical.

Have�at�ya,�boy!

��What�devilry�is�this?

�PETER�PAN:�The�real�Neverland.

�Silly�little�Librarian,

��I�remember�your�kind from�days�of�old,

and�you've�played ��right�into�my�hands.

���- ���-

���Oh,�dear.

�Whoa.

���- ���-

Thanks�to�you,�I�now�have �all�the�story�elements

�I�need�to�open�the�way ���back�to�Neverland.

��The�Lost�Boys,�Wendy, ��John�Darling,

the�crocodile,�they're�all�here.

And�soon, �we'll�all�be�together�forever.

�As�well�as�you, ��my�new�Captain�Hook,

who�I�shall�fight�again,

���and�again,

���and�again,

�and�never�lose.

���Never�lose?

��How�did�you�do�that?

���Disarm�Vikram�Chamberlain,

��one�of�the�greatest�swordsmen ���in�history?�Simple.

��By�being�the�greatest ��swordsman�in�history.

���Poppycock�and�puff!

�Let�our�blades�decide, ���Librarian.

���Vikram,�we're�story�locked.

���That�means, ��no�matter�how�hard�you�fight,

�Hook�always�gets�eaten by�the�crocodile.

�Crocodile,�you�say?

�Hello?

�Hello?

��I�think�you�scared�them�off.

�You�should�try�losing�the�hat.

��Lysa?

���- ��-

�Whoa.�Now,�that ��is�an�alarming�sight.

���Lysa,�I�really�hope �that�you�had�something

���substantial�to�eat �for�breakfast.

��Ah.�Here�we�go�then.

���- ��-

�You�really�are ���very�good�at�that.

���You�must�be�my�third�Hook, ��or�are�you�my�fourth?

�It's�hard�to�remember.

���They�all�make�the�same�face �when�they�fall.

Thinking�happy�thoughts. Thinking�happy�thoughts.

��That�doesn't�work�on�baddies, ���silly-puss,

���but�I�hope�you're�excited.

To�die�will�be�an�awfully �big�adventure.

If�I'm�being�honest,�this�really ���isn't�how�I�thought�I'd�go.

��Vikram,�stop�thinking ��like�a�character�in�his�story

���and�start�thinking �like�yourself.

-�Cheat! -�No,�no.

��-�You�must�fight�with�honor. -�Yes.�I�normally�would,

��but�there's�far�more ��at�stake�here

��than�my�honor�alone.

��Yes.�That's�it.

���I�will�not�fight�you,�Pan.

���I�will�not�continue �this�endless�cycle�of�violence.

���Can't�fight�me�now.

�And�with�that, ��your�story�is�broken.

���Ow.

��Captain�Hook ��can't�be�a�pacifist.

�-�That's�non-canonical. �-�Hmm.

��Yes.�Well,�I'm�afraid your�cannon�is�about�to�explode.

��-�Ciao,�ciao. -�You...

�Clap�your�hands�if�you�believe �in�massive�explosions,

�boys�and�girls.

��- ��-

��- ���-

���-�You�okay? �-�Lysa�tried�to�eat�me.

-�Sorry. �-�Yeah.

���It's,�uh,�been�a�weird�day ��for�everyone.

���Excuse�me.

�Have�you�seen�my�wife?

��Sir�Christopher,�yes,�I�have.

Hey.�I'm�American�again.

Yee-haw.

���-�Charlie. -�Uh-hmm.

�We�missed�you�so�much.

���What�did�you�miss�the�most, ���the�nagging�or�the�bossing?

��No,�we�missed ��all�the�good�things.

And�the�nagging�and�the�bossing.

�The�Library�is�a�duller

and�poorer�place �without�you,�my�friend.

���Excuse�me.

���Can�I�go�home�now,�please?

�Sir�Chamley,�you�read�my�mind. I�guess--

��Put�me�down!

��Sharp�knives�gouging Captain�Hook's�eyeballs,

�pointed�swords�plunged �into�his�heart,

red-hot�corkscrews�driven �under�his�fingernails.

���What�are�you�doing?

��I'm�thinking�happy�thoughts.

��Pan,�bring�her�back!

��I�may�have�lost�my�Lost�Boys,

�my�crocodile,�my�Hook, ��but�I'll�still�have�my�Wendy.

Wendy�and�Peter, �in�the�real�Neverland�forever.

���-�I�don't�wanna�go. -�Tough.

��Peter�Pan�never�plays�alone.

��Paperwork�and�filing.

��Admin�and�accounting.

�Charges�and�surcharges.

What's�happening? Stop.�Stop�this.

�Being�there�when�you're�needed.

��Being�there�when�you're�not.

��Being�the�glue�that�holds�it ��all�together.

��-�No! �-�Sure.

���They're�not�happy�thoughts,

�but�responsibility�grounds�you

just�like�it's�doing�now.

I�got�tired�of�it �for�a�second�back�then,

���but�it's�worth�it,

��because�if�something�happens �to�my�friends,

��I�don't�just�fly�off and�get�new�ones.

And�I�choose�my�friends.

�That's�my�wish.

�I'll�get�you,�Guardian!

�No,�you'll�get�exactly what�you�wanted.

You'll�be�young�forever, ��in�Neverland�forever.

��But�this�time,�Peter,

you'll�be�playing�alone.

���No!

-�Should�we�get�you�home? ���-�Oh,�yes.

Do�you�know�where�I�live?

�- ���-�SIR�CHAMLEY:�My�darling!

�Chris.

�Oh,�I'm�so�sorry,�I�went�away.

Oh,�darling.�Oh.

��Hmm.

�Well,�it's�been ��the�most�unusual�experience,

�even�by�our�standards.

�I�did,�however, �enjoy�the�dressing�up.

Hey,�Charlie,�we're�really�sorry

���that�we've�been�taking�you ��for�granted.

Yeah.�Everything ���that�you�do�for�us,

we've�been�so�ungrateful.

��And�we�will�be�better �in�the�future.

���I�mean,�you�totally�won't, �but�I�appreciate�you�saying�it.

��Well,�I've�got�a�ton �of�paperwork�I�should�be�doing.

�But�instead,�I'm�buying ��if�anyone's�drinking.

Oh,�a�night�off? Well,�I�approve.

���I�am�totally�down�for�that.

���-�Yeah.�And�I�am�starving. �-�Yeah.

�Well,�let's�eat,�drink, ��and�be�merry.

��Okay.�I�just�have�to�get�my, ���uh,�jacket�without�pockets.

��Yeah.�I�think�I�need ���to�change�my�shoes.

�-�Oh,�my�crabs! �-�LYSA:�Okay.�Hurry�up.

��-�Tick-tock. �-�Lysa,�do�not�do�that.

So,�I�hope�your�takeaway ��from�all�this

isn't�that�you�think�I'm�boring?

�Oh.�No,�no,�not�at�all.

Actually,�I�think�you�get �the�balance�just�right

�between�Responsible�You ��and�Fun�You.

���Like,�you'll�always ��follow�rules,

��but�it's�not �because�you�love�rules.

��What�do�I�love�then?

�-�You�love�us. �-�Hmm.

��You�love�us.

��You�love�us.

��You�love�us.

��You�la,�la,�love�us.�L-O-V-E.

��-�You�are�all�idiots. -�Literally,�absolutely.

�And�I�think�that's�why ��we�need�you�so�much.

���Don't�ever�change, Charlie�Cornwall.

�-�Deal. ���-�Promise?

���CONNOR:�Okay.�Okay.

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