Peter Pan: Back to Never-land (A queer re imagining)

Peter:

"I'm convinced you're a psychic.. were we not talking about Prince Patrick less than 48 hours ago?" I say in actual shock. But it comes out like I'm trying some humour.

"Peter, seriously this is not the time for your humour. The family have been searching for a nurse for the past 24 hours.. Prince Patrick is going to die if you don't do this!" Aunt Helen says so urgently I feel myself jolt forward.

"No pressure, damn!  And you can't.." I start.
"No! I'm swamped with other soldiers Peter! It's you or this boy dies!" She yells at me.
"Okay, okay." I say holding up my hands. "I'll do it. I'll go straight there now."
Aunt Helen looks at me like I'm saving HER life, not that of some rich, probably spoilt prince with a hero complex.
Peter that's awful, a life is a life. Prince Patrick's life is literally in your hands. You wanted to make a difference, this is it! It's life or death.

Aunt Helen and I barge out the door ready to bolt in different directions with our satchels before she pulls up and grabs my face.
"You are an angel Peter, don't let anyone tell you different." She says. Kisses my forehead and then she runs. Okay then. That was weird, no time to dwell though, the prince's life is literally in my hands.
I head off in the other directions, toward the palace. Which feels totally weird, I grew up here and I've never been there. I hitch a ride on the back of a horse and cart that confirms it's headed to the castle. I'm quite literally standing on the edge of a carriage. Pain is shooting up and down my left thigh but I've grown accustomed enough to ignore it mostly, it sort of becomes a dull ache if I work hard enough not to think about it. I jump off the carriage, somehow managing to get let through a small crowd of ready soldiers (ours) just by saying I'm here to help Prince Patrick. One of them ushers me in the back door of the castle.
"You should really be more careful kid." The soldier says as he pulls his helmet back. He's an older gentle man, maybe a cousin or something? He has the dark features that the royals have , or least I can tell from the photos I've seen of them in the newspapers around town.
"Wouldn't want the only person who can save my brother to meet the same fate." He says his face suddenly sad.
"Brother?" I stammer.
The other princes' face relaxes a little now.
"Prince Theodore." He extends a hand to me and I shake it quickly. "Now come on." He waves on not asking for my name or anything further. Not surprisingly, I am a commoner.
He leads me through some, also sand bricked, seemingly never ending, hallways until we are met with a face I have seen in the papers. It's Queen Athena. Her face is cold and stone and when she looks it me, she may as well have spat and called me disgusting, that's how it felt. I do my best not to turn and run. Luckily Prince Theodore catches my shoulder.
"He's here to help Patrick." Prince Theodore says. The Queen scowls as she looks me over.
"This is who Helen sent? A kid off the street." She says.

"I'm usually more presentable than this, I'm Helen's nephew, Peter, and I got here as fast as I could I was told it was urgent."
I say, thankfully I'm used to dealing with people like her on a day to day basis. Snapping gets you nowhere.
She raises a hand at me.
"Don't need your life story, Theodore show him to the servants wing, there you will clean up and tend to my son immediately. Got it." She doesn't wait for a response before turning and disappearing down a hallway. Meanwhile my stomach is in knots.
"Don't worry about her, she's in a mess about Patrick. Come." Prince Theodore pushes two swing doors open to reveal a staff room of sorts.
"Clean up in the back, ask Miles here for some work clothes. Otherwise thank you for stepping in to help my brother."
Now this is a concerned relative. I can see the worry on this guy's face. And he's not treating me like an animal, which is more than I can say for his mother.
"My pleasure, thank you for your help also." I tell him and bow my head. He just smiles and runs off.

"You must be the nurse." The afore mentioned Miles pipes up and hands me some dusty coloured scrubs, much like he wears.
"Yeah I'm Peter." I call as I get scrub my face in a laundry sink. I do my best to look as presentable I can with just water and soap.
"Okay that's better Peter." Miles laughs, he's a sweet looking (is it weird to call another boy sweet looking?) brown skinned boy.
"Sorry I.." I start. Miles laughs.
"I'm not your boss, Peter. You do you." He says and then leads me down another endless hallway.
"This is Prince Patrick's room. Number 244, it's easy to get lost, if you do just look for the numbers." Miles says and then pauses to make sure no one is watching or listening, I guess.
"Thanks for stepping up, Peter. Really. Prince Patrick is way to good for this family. He deserves to live, so thank you." And then much like Prince Theodore before him Miles made a hasty exit. These people are so weird.
I knock on the prince's door. And I hear a pained,
"Hello?" So I stick my head in.
"Hi Prince Patrick, I'm Peter your nurse." I say.
The room is huge, easily as big as my home. A few dressers line the walls and some desks and books and Writing materials fill the room.
"Come in." The Prince says with the same pained voice. To my horror the arrow hasn't been removed from his chest. Thank goodness I'm magic otherwise this would be way above my head.
"Close your eyes Prince Patrick, and do your best to relax, okay?" I say gently. He manages a tiny pained nod and closes his eyes.
"J-just P-Patrick is fine." He says past the pain.