Peter Pan Imagines (Once Upon a Time)

Secrets Told, Secrets Buried

It is late in the afternoon when you realize that you love him.

It was not supposed to happen like this, if it was ever supposed to happen at all. The sands of time were meant to keep falling, to repeat these days over and over again in your blissful stretch of immortality until you had no idea when one century ended and the other began. That's what Peter Pan promised to you when you first arrived at the island, after all: endless excitement, endless joy.

Endless being the key principle of the thing. Part of the delight of Neverland is that it goes on forever. There is no real event to break up the repetition, for no good thing dies here, not really. Your days are spent like your nights, long and leaving you weary, full of adventures few could even dream of, let alone have for real.

You have it all here, it's what he promised you, and Peter has never let you down in all this time. It's a shame, then, that you have to be the one to ruin things. Once you realize that you love Peter, you could never go back from it. Your thoughts have been contaminated now, a once crystal clear spring running red with blood.

The realization comes upon you by chance, a total accident yet one that you cannot take back. You and Peter are walking through the forest on the way to some last minute archery practice before dinner, talking idly and making things up to pass the time. He's got his bow in hand, you watch as he casually nocks an arrow and lets it go. The arrowhead whooshes right past you, and when you look up, you know.

Across the clearing, the arrow thuds into the trunk of a tree, the echo beating in time with the drop of your heart into your stomach. Peter's still saying something, but you're not sure that you've heard the last few sentences of it. All you know for certain is that you have stopped thinking of him like he was a friend, more that he was someone you wanted to keep and never let go.

Peter does not do well with such things, such cages. He was born to leave it all behind, to fly above the treetops or plunge into the forest with such reckless abandon that he would outpace even his closest compatriots. Being a Lost Boy means that you get to try and keep up with him for as long as you can, the effort makes it exciting, but it will never last. Peter Pan has magic, you do not. Peter Pan will have you here as long as he can, but your love could never tie him down forever.

With a great degree of effort, some of it seemingly beyond your control but necessitated by the sheer knowledge that Peter Pan will find you out eventually if you start acting differently around him, you force yourself to return to the conversation. He's been talking about strategies for the Lost Boys for the last five minutes or so, lost in that sort of manic glee he gets when bloodlust comes to the table. Someday, you'd love to think that he would talk about you with that same all encompassing delight, but not all dreams are meant to last in Neverland.

Despite your renewed efforts at appearing otherwise fine, Peter finds you out soon enough. He pauses for a moment in his reckless scramble through the forest, fixing you with a shrewd look.

"You haven't been paying attention, have you?" He demands.

You flash him a chagrined smile. "Not as much as I could have, maybe, but I do remember some bit about pirates."

Peter groans. "You're distracted again, aren't you? I swear, you spend half your time in fairyland."

You laugh. "We live in fairyland, Peter. I think I'm more than allowed to let my thoughts rest in my own home."

Peter swats you on the shoulder. "You know what I mean. Next time I decide to launch a surprise attack on the pirates, I might hand you over to them instead. Spend a good few years swabbing decks and you'll miss my rambling, I can promise you that."