Only in Neverland (under revision)

In the Flesh

Peter and I were laughing as I lead him down the stairs to the main door. Angela was scurrying behind, with her shoulders slumped, trying to prove that what we were doing was a bad idea. When my hand went for the doorknob, a hand dark with dirt reached out and held my wrist fast before I could turn it. I stopped laughing when I realized that it was Peter's hand and that he had become silent, himself. 

I turned my head and found him an inch away from me. His eyes locked on mine. The air about him made my smile start to fall flat.

"What is it?" I questioned, intently.

"I don't want to go. I don't want to go to her."

"Are you sure?"

"YES! I'm sure!" His mood changed so quickly, that I had to take a step back.

I couldn't quite grasp exactly why this was. Just minutes ago he had needed to see Grandmother Wendy. "But..., I thought you mightily fancied to do so. Are you sure? We can still—"

"Just please! I don't want to go any more." He turned his head quickly, but I still saw one lonely tear fall down his cheek, clearing a path of tanned skin.

His fast footsteps pounded loudly on the floor, before he lifted into the air, heading back toward the nursery. Angela and I exchanged glances for a moment. Her eyes were filled with a new curiosity and a sort of concern that made me feel like the younger one. 

But then I realized what it was. He didn't want to go to Wendy, didn't want to be reminded of what he had lost. Something that I had already let happen too many times. When he stared at my face, it was because I resembled her, and that was already too much for him.

Angela leaned over to my ear and whispered, "I think it's because you look like,"

"Mhm, yes I know," I quieted her. "But thank you."

I screeched out Peter's name, hoping he wouldn't leave. He rubbed people the wrong way most of the time, but if he left I'd have to go back to life as usual, all the exhilaration drained free from it.

Both of us skidded to a stop at our bedroom. I padded to the window, seeing him nowhere else. I sank to my knees knowing for certain he'd left. I let my head fall into my palms, but didn't want to start crying. 

Angela came to stand by my side. She placed a hand on my shoulder and quietly said, "There, there."

I looked up at her round face, into her blue eyes and wondered. I wondered how she could be this wise at her inexperienced age of seven. I was about to ask her just that, and why she isn't more like the little sister, when movement in the window space caught my attention. I turned my head so fast my neck cracked. I stared out at the night sky through wide eyes, having risen to a more upright position. 

I sighed, and slumped back down. Simply my wild imagination playing tricks on me.

I heard an almost silent snicker and the even quieter flap of fairy wings. I looked up higher and saw the golden haired head of a boy peeking out from above the window. He flipped to an upright position and drifted softly down to the sill. He put his arms atop the wood of it and rested his chin on them, as if he were settling in to listen to another one of Grandmother Wendy's tales. I leaned forward, resting more weight onto my hands, grinning from ear to ear.

"You're still here!" My voice was breathy and full of wonderment.

He looked at Angela and said, "She didn't think I'd leave without her, did she?" He grinned with one side of his mouth, his green eyes twinkling, now looking at me. "You wouldn't think such nonsense, Moira. Would you?"