Stranger Things One-shots (Requests Closed)

Neverland

(okay, this isn't a request from any one, I've wanted to do this for a little while. Even before any one requested. Sorry if it's crappy, I'm bad at coming up with ideas, and this is if Eleven never... you know)

Eleven

There has been a story on Nancy's bookshelf for a while, with a leather cover and a picture of a flying boy on it... Mike said it's called Peter Pan, and it looks interesting to me. I don't know why. It just does.

"Bye, El!" Mike yells to me from the top of the stairs. I smile lightly at his voice, and reply with, "bye, Mike."

I'm already kind of bored, as Mike calls it. I've been sitting here for how long? I don't really know, but I have nothing to do right now. Nothing, and that makes me a little uneasy. I wish Mike was here, he would've fed me eggos and we could've done something, I think solemnly. He has to go to school, where the mouth breathers are. Poor Mike, the mouth breathers hurt him. Mike shouldn't get hurt.

I stand up from the couch, where I was sitting for a little while. My legs feel prickly, and I don't really like it, so I run upstairs and peer around the corners. No one's home. I wish someone was.

I make my way into Nancy's room, where it's still neat and pink. It looks a little bare, because Nancy just went to "college."  don't know what that means, but if someone has to leave because of it, I don't like it. But one thing does catch my eye, it's the thick leather book with the flying boy. "Peter Pan," I mutter thoughtfully, and I make my way over to it, curiosity dawning on me. I'm not positive why I want to read it, but I just do. I take the book, and slowly make my way back into the basement. As I let it lie on my lap, I stare at the gold print. "Peter Pan," it reads boldly, presenting itself in a fascinating matter. "By J.M Barrie," it has the fine print on the bottom too, I'm not sure who "J.M Barrie is," but whoever he is, he made a pretty font. "Okay," I breathe, and open it to the first page. I know how to read, the bad men taught me, but I haven't read anything in a while. I've been a little busy. "Ch-chapter one," I stutter as confidently as I can, and I start reading the book. Slowly, yes... but I'm okay with that.

It takes a little while for me to finish it, but it's a nice story. I like it, I like the idea. "Me and Mike could go to Neverland, and never grow up," I say with a smile. "Fun." I laugh, thinking about the story. Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up, the boy who can crow loudly, who can fly... it sounds like an adventure. Me and Mike could have a lot of fun.

As I stare at the final page of the long book, I'm enveloped in thoughts. Thoughts about the book, thoughts about basically me and Mike... he could be Peter Pan, I'm Wendy! Right? Or is it the other way around? Either way. Just then, I hear a noise and I flinch. "Hey, El!" I hear Mike's voice, and my heart beat isn't racing nearly as much. Well, it kind of always feels a little fast when I'm with Mike, but I'm no longer scared. I just smile, and show him the book. "I read it," I tell him quietly, and I stare at him. I'm honestly a little proud of myself. I haven't ever read a book this long... it took me a long time, though. Mike smiles proudly, his dark and pretty eyes shining. "I loved that book when I was a kid, and you read the entire thing?" he asks me. I just nod. "Neverland," I say to him lightly. "Neverland. When I was a kid, I wanted to go so badly, and I was determined to fight the pirates, next to the Lost Boys." he laughs, and it makes my face feel a little hot. "Peter Pan," I also add, pointing at him. "Wendy?" I point at myself, looking at him questioningly. His face turns red. Why? How did his face turn red? "Uh, yeah! Peter Pan and Wendy." he smiles and throws his backpack off, as he plops on to the couch beside me. I see that he has a cut, he's bleeding lightly. I touch it, concerned. "What happened?" I ask. He just looks at me. "Mouth breathers are jerks," he says quietly. "They tried some of their stupid stuff again, and I was their target. Luckily we're somewhat fast runners, but they still threw a rock at me." I feel anger. How dare they hurt Mike? My Mike? "Pain?" I ask him, meaning it in two ways. For the Mouth breathers, and for Mike. "El, don't hurt them. They aren't worth it." he says calmly. "And no, I'm not really hurt." I'm so glad he understands what I mean when I talk. I release my tense shoulders, and sit back beside him. I lean my arm on his shoulder, and take his hand. "I want to go to Neverland," I tell him sincerely, and I add one more thing. "Is it real?"

He looks down at me. "No, Neverland isn't real. It's a story." he sounds a little sad, and I feel a deep disappointment. But he pulls my chin up to face him. "It's okay, El. We'll make our own Neverland. Together." he says so sweetly, and he sounds so honest. "Promise?" I ask.

"Promise. You, me, and our Neverland." he smiles at me, and leans in. I do the same thing, until our lips are touching. I enjoy when Mike does this, whatever it's called. It's soft and sweet, his lips are chapped, but I like that. He pulls apart, and smiles.

"Our Neverland."