Only in Neverland (under revision)

A Hail Storm Strikes

I woke in the middle of the night to find Peter murmuring furtively to himself. I sat up quietly, making it a point not to let him know I was up. I only caught some of the things he said and it went something like this:

"She'll see... I can take this on... I could... And it's no different... If only she... like the one... But now I can show them all." And that's when I heard the howling. The winds outside were atrocious and I heard a pattering much like that of rain drops, but it was frighteningly noisier. It was a wonder I was able to hear anything Peter was saying. 

I watched a smile grow on Pan's face in the dim light. Something mischievous was about to happen, that I knew. Then I knew what it was, suddenly it was so clear to me that I was surprised I hadn't thought of it before.

Peter, the fool, still thought he could defeat the world's elements. He supposed he could defeat the hail, just as if it were a human enemy.

"Peter? Is that you?" I called out, making it seem that I had just risen from sleep and wasn't sure who it was.

"What do you want?" His grumbling response came.

"Well, nothing really, I was just wanting to know who it was... But now that you bring it up, I would like to talk to you about something."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, he came to sit beside me, ready to listen to what I had to say. "Hm?"

"I just wanted to tell you about Wendy for a minute." I took in a breath. I could trick Peter into not doing what he was about to. Stop him from acting on a foolish whim. "She liked it when people stayed inside all through the night. I don't know why it would make any difference to you, but I thought you might want to know. Because when a person went outside she thought it make them look weak." I rolled over onto my side to fall back asleep, or to at least look that way. 

There was an elongated pause and then Peter asked, "What do you mean?"

I replied without shifting or opening my eyes with, "I mean that if somebody were to leave an establishment during the night hours, she wouldn't be very approving of it. I'm not positively sure why, but it was simply something that provoked her. That's all."

Of course, none of this was true. I was making it all up, but I didn't see the harm in it. In fact, the opposite of harm was sure to take place. I saw some sort of revolution happening in Peter's round green eyes. And then he said, "Neat." And it was all I needed to hear in order to know I had failed.

So be it, I though, gritting my teeth. The monster deserves it.

I lay my head back down to at least try falling asleep. As I did so, Peter ran up and out of our hideaway. I puffed out steam of anger. He can see for himself that there isn't one single human being that can—

My thoughts went blank as I heard a faint yelp come from somewhere outside. I opened my eyes and stood still for a minute, knowing very well from whom the sound had come. To this knowledge, one side of me was saying I could leave him out there to finish teaching the lesson, and the other side was telling me that he had surely learned his lesson, whatever had happened. 

I groaned and rolled onto my front to, from there, rise to my feet. "Peter," I yelled, near exasperation, while I ran outside, taking the exact same route as Peter had.

When I reached the outdoors, my jaw dropped, but not a single sound escaped through the open space between my lips. This storm was unlike any I'd seen ever seen. No rain was to be seen, only hail. And the hail was the size footballs. That was the only thing my mind truly processed before it turned on its survival mode, because lying on the ground at my feet was Peter, unconscious and bleeding; bruises were already starting to form on his arms and legs, not to mention the blue hue already creeping into his doughy complexion from the bitter temperature.

The next thing I knew we were back underground, where we were safe from the monstrously sized hail. It turns out that I launched Peter down the chute as quickly as possible and tumbled down after him. He didn't wake up, but Angela and Tinker Bell were very much awake at this point. Tink was circling around Peter's head, giving him tiny slaps in his face trying to get his eyes to open. Though the damage done was so strikingly severe, he wasn't going to be waking up any time soon—that was very apparently so.

I was so angry with him for thinking he could take on something so powerful as Mother Nature. On the other hand, I was so scared. Peter was one of the best friends I could have asked for. No matter how emotionally impaired he is, he let me find fun in not being constantly regal. I could make my own adventures and I didn't have to grow up this very second, Angela, neither. In spite of my mixed feelings, I felt a tear welling up against my bottom eyelashes. That tear was the only one to fall.

I sank to the floor beside Peter's motionless body, hearing the harsh fall of the hail just above. Please don't die, I prayed over and over. Sad faces were everywhere, including Angela's. All that we needed was for the hail to stop. We could get help here, or better yet, fly away from Neverland, take Peter away so he could grow up.

When I presented the idea of leaving Neverland, Angela seemed happy with the idea, but Tinker Bell would need some convincing. She defensively flew between me and Peter, right up to my face. I didn't need to speak fairy to understand that she was saying, "NO!"

"But why not?" I asked, asking Angela what Tink's response was.

"She says, 'Because this is Peter's home... and nothing good ever came from outside of it. Including you and your grandmother, Wendy.'" Angela winced. "That's a bit harsh..."

"You've never even been outside Neverland!" I paused, recalling Kensington Gardens. "So maybe you have been outside, but even you have to know that Peter needs to open his eyes up to the world. He has to accept that growing up happens."

"'Growing up means that someday he'll be gone for good. When he's here... he's always happy, we can be happy friends forever and ever. And he never has to go to school, or marry or work a day in his life... He's perfectly fine how he is here and you can't come her, thinking you have the right to change anything.'"

"If he weren't here he could..."

I heard Peter moan.

"Then we'll take Peter to the Indian healer and we'll settle this with all parties involved in the debate." I declared. Just then, as if by magic, the hail stopped. "And we shall leave now."