Never Moon

part 12

"The truth is that there was a something about Peter which goaded the pirate captain to frenzy. It was not his courage, it was not his engaging appearance, it was not—. There is no beating about the bush, for we know quite well what it was, and have got to tell. It was Peter's cockiness."

Peter Pan, "The Children Are Carried Off." 

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Never had Char felt such a potent happiness, such a complete euphoria. An utter sense of rightness overwhelmed her, flooding her veins, chasing away any anger and breaking apart any conviction to stubbornly stay upset. 

Peter's arms locked tightly around her and they both fell, hurtling towards the island so fast that the breath was ripped from Char's lungs. She knew they were on fire; her clothes were starting to smoke. But all she could do was laugh and shout and clutch to Peter Pan. The compass needle in her chest didn't waver anymore, for she had followed it right back to where it pointed. 

"You came back, you came back," Peter said into her ear. "Wendy. Wendy." 

"I said I'd save you, didn't I?" She reminded him playfully, the ground approaching quickly. But she had no fear. She was immortal and strong and unstoppable and with Peter Pan; the wildness in her chest burst free, almost singing. 

Peter Pan felt its song beneath his hands, heard it in his ears but paid no mind--for the same magic danced within his veins as well. If it was in him, and he was fine, why should it ever be detrimental to Wendy? 

Just as the first branches of the treetops brushed Char's back, Peter crushed Char more tightly to him and swung them upwards almost as fast as they'd been falling. 

Her heart pounded and she heaved breaths over his shoulder, hands fisted in his shirt; he was laughing into her hair as they began to drift slowly down to the ground. 

Such a reunion for two who barely knew each other--but there are some bonds, I think, that cannot be explained with words, only magic. Neverland certainly had a hand in the formation of this connection, for it needed Char in order to be saved, and wanted to keep her here, but I also think it has to do with the way that Peter had implored her, begged her, even, to save them. Peter Pan was not one to deign himself. He did it once for a girl named Margaret, once--how that ended is another story--and to do it again for Char meant that he was truly desperate. It was this, we can assume, that truly bound them together. 

They stumbled apart when their feet touched the ground, but their hands stayed linked, two magnets that were unwillingly separated. Though the time apart had been short, it had been enough for Peter to finally admit to himself that the fight was also his fault and for the piece of Char that was now Neverland to start aching. 

Flowers unfurled at their feet and the whole forest seemed to come alive, celebrating in Peter's happiness, basking in his euphoria. 

Char's breath left her as she took in the landscape around her, jewel-like colors almost too bright to look at. A butterfly with six wings the color of liquid gold brushed her cheek as it passed, tiny blue chipmunk-like creatures sniffing at her grubby sneakers before scampering into bushes drooping with berries the color of rubies. 

"Peter," she breathed, and he puffed up smugly at her pleased look. 

"This is all because of me," he reminded her, taking all the credit. She was too awe-struck to argue like  she normally would. Instead she turned to him, her eyes conveying things that neither of them could ever hope to put into words. Peter felt a strange nudge in his chest, a warm shove at a heart that he'd scornfully ignored. He lifted his hand like he might touch her, this dream-like girl with her smile of promises and her eyes of hope and her hands of care and of trust and of so many things that this island needed--that Peter needed--but that he'd never, ever admit aloud. He was too stuck in his ways. It was too late to reverse things now, I think. The past is the past; it makes up the very essence of who a person is. That is why adults are so vitally different from children. That is why teenagers begin to realize it.