The Land of Dreams

20: Golden

The whole thing still mystifies James, even to this day.

Because of the substantial amount of blood he lost during the period of time between the attack and him arriving at Camp, both Tink and Cara – who would be considered his "doctors" over the next few weeks of his recovery and rehabilitation into the world after losing his hand – were more concerned about making sure he didn't die from blood loss.

At first, they struggled in vain to keep him awake, incessantly shaking him awake or even gently slapping his face to keep his eyes from shutting. "We were terrified you'd kick the bucket right then and there, looking as though you were simply sleeping." Cara would later inform him.

But then they realized he was trying to sleep because the smarting in his arm was too great to endure while alert. He would thrash about and roar in agony, and then go limp after a fit of convulsions, most likely due to his body being besieged by the pain, none of which he remembers, something he is thankful for.

So then Tink did her fairy magic: she cast numerous spells on James, all of them ranging widely in their assets. One spell was to decelerate the blood flow in his body, which not only stopped the gushing from is wound – it is estimated he lost around five pints of blood, which is way too many for a human to lose- but also put him into a coma, which was better than having him scream endlessly throughout the night.

Another was placed to help prevent him from feeling any of the pain: this one had to be repeatedly rejuvenated throughout the period of time in which they spent trying to both clean the wound – who knows that the croc had been in before chomping off James's hand – and then sewing shut and welding the skin over the bone that jutted out of his wrist at a slight right angle. He kept waking up while Cara was sewing his skin shut, howling and moaning at the pain.

For a fairy as petite as Tink, the turmoil on her body was extensive: fairies only produce an amount of magic that is equal to their body size which is to say, very slight. Even the supreme fairy on Neverland – who refused to meddle with any "mundane" issues, such as, say, a Lost Boy getting his hand bitten off by a petulant croc- would struggle producing as much magic Tink had.

After the initial closing of the wound, it was purely up to James to fight the toxins and bacteria that had entered his body, as well as mend himself: Cara and Tink had done everything they could to help him recover.

And so then began the slow and tortuous journey back to the living: he would often wake up abruptly, drenched in sweat, look over at Cara – who was always by his side – ogle at her with vacant, glassy eyes, and then slump back down, submerged in sleep.

His slumbers were intermittently pierced with dreams that seemed so authentic and vivid; they couldn't even be called dreams: they were more like hallucinations of the world around him, vague snippets of reality that had slipped into his dream realm.

He had trouble unscrambling memories of when he was actually awake or if he was dreaming, for they were all painted over in a foggy golden glaze-like honey.

He would dream that Cara was lying next to him, her head curled up on his chest like when they were back in London, and she was talking to him, murmuring and informing him of all the things that were happening at camp: who got hurt and how, as well as the fact that Peter was missing.

A few times he thought he heard Cara whisper that she loved him, but he wasn't sure: whenever he thought he heard that, a particularly peculiar dream would saunter into his mind, full of dancing clowns and speaking fish, that he would simply shrug it off.

And then, when he woke up for good and not for a mere five seconds, he told Cara that he loved her, that he had always cherished her and would love her with his whole being until the day they died.

It was the truth: he had loved the girl since the first night they spent together, curled up next to each other in an attempt to conserve their body heat. She was miniature then, just barely four feet tall, and weighed practically nothing. But he saw a sparkle in her eyes, a sharp-witted blaze that radiated beautifully, luring him in, and it amazed him.

She was timid, yes, and practically futile then, but her eyes held her power: calculating, thoughtful and relentlessly shimmering with someone unknown emotion, full of magic and power all of its own. She had gone through the ringer, walked along smoldering coals, and came out every stronger for it.

She enthralled him, charmed him with her odd proclamations and eccentric behavior: she could be animated with liveliness one minute, talking a million miles a minute, and then voiceless the next, crawling sheepishly behind him.

He started to care for the girl: she was comical when she was relaxed, would say the silliest of things that would leave James doubled over in laughter. And while she was childish at times, she could distinguish when to make him laugh and when to simply hold him. She understood how significant things truly were for them, and was considerate of James's boundaries, which he was very open about.

And oh, how she was brave: she would stand up to the uncouth of cops and tell them to go blubber to their mommy, she didn't care. She would execute outrageous risks in order to get whatever it was she wanted – and she always got what she wanted. She was fearless and bold, faring and plucky.

They had done everything together: they once broke into a rich man's manor one cold winter night, but not to rob anything, which admittedly, they did contemplate - the guy had literal shelves of first class china, the borders and edges of the meticulously polished plates were all of unadulterated gold and naked angels were portrayed on the surfaces, billowing white clouds placed purposefully over certain parts. One plate could buy them a house to live in and a cup would cover the rent for a year.

But no; Cara had merely wanted to take a quick bath, something James had found amusing: she would sleep on the solid, muddy ground with nothing but his chest for a pillow without complaint, but wanted a bath after getting a bit of hot chocolate spilt on her.

Speaking of hot chocolate: she had an appalling sweet tooth towards it. She would often beg James to get her one every time he went out, and each time he prevailed: he'd sneak into a café and fix one for the both of them, would pick- pocket a passerby so he could buy a correctly made one – he always put too much milk into it whenever he made them and it would make it too plain to enjoy.

And he did it all simply to see the grin on Cara's face when he walked towards her, a cup in both hands, with the steam of the hot drinks mixing with the air in delicate tendrils. Her smile would light up her face like a light bulb, and her eyes would glow like the sun itself, all over something so small and insignificant and it made James feel wonderful.

Cara was James's home, his place of sanctuary that he could go to whenever the ruthless world hit him particularly hard. She was there for him when he cut himself on a rusted nail and couldn't use his hand for days. She was there to shake him awake from the night terrors that he used to suffer with and became too frightening for him to bear.

Cara Darling was, to him, the three most important things a person can be: a home, a best friend, and an ally.

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Ah, ought a love Young Love, am I right? Anyways! I hope you guys liked this chapter. Next one should be out soon. Please remember to like,comment, and share. 

Oof. I just sounded like one of those cheesy Tiktokers: "Please remember to like, comment, follow and share" Xo

But yeah. Please do, tho, cuz it gives me motivation and shots of serotonin. so... :D