Only in Neverland (under revision)

Homeward Bound

I was brought to consciousness by noises in my ears, like those of a fly. I opened my eyes slowly to see Angela rambling on to herself in front of me, pacing back and forth. And there was Tinker Bell buzzing directly beside my head. The tiger was gone, but I imagined he was doing just fine. 

".... And if it were up to me, I'd say let him die, but I know that he's your friend, so you'll want his sorry life preserved—"

"Angela, slow down. What's going on?" I asked worriedly, taking note that Peter wasn't there.

"It's Peter Pan. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but he's really done it this time, the buffoon. He still thought for some crazy reason that he could beat this universe and its natural disasters." She went on to tell me there was a large wave that arose—the way she described it made it out to be a tsunami or something similar. His plan didn't go accordingly, and now he was somewhere in the vast sea, probably hurt and possibly drowning or suffering from hypothermia. "If you asked me, I'd tell you he deserved it and that we should let him finish what he started. But I'm aware, you don't think anyone deserves that, especially not a friend. So if we have to save him, I'll do my best to help."

I was already standing and trying to devise a plan. I could tell that Angela didn't really feel that someone should die. She wasn't cold-hearted and deep down she was the first one who should like to rescue Peter. That meant we had a willing and capable recovery team, all we needed now was a way to do it.

"Do you have any ideas?" I asked.

"Well Tink suggests we fly to see if we can spot him, and then as a team effort we can pull him out," Angela offered, as though it wasn't her own suggestion.

I nodded, "We shall split up. You two take the right, and I'll take the left. Tink, you better not let her out of your sight, because you have all the fairy dust." I added as an after thought, to comfort them, "Just in case." I could see worry in Angela's face, but she understood that it was my job to protect her. "Alright, all that's left is the fairy dust, please."

When we all had the fairy dust and had somehow conjured up happy thoughts, we took off toward the water. When we got there, we all saw the damage done to everything surrounding where the wave took place—trees split and knocked over, sad broken bodies of animals unable to make an escape, still-wet sand, unsettling dark waters, and a mist in the air. Everywhere I looked gave me the urge to cry, but I had to stay afloat. So I gathered my thoughts and blocked them out, because no thoughts had to be better than sad thoughts.

I was on autopilot, when I heard shouts from Angela, yards from where I flew. I dived in the air, coming as quickly as I could to where the yells originated from. I saw Tink and Angela hovering above the pale, blue body of Peter Pan. He looked weak and dying. Tinker Bell was almost constantly sprinkling fairy dust over my sister, because she ostensibly couldn't keep her thoughts happy enough. 

Well all huddled close, shivering from the cold, around him. Angela took his legs, and I took his torso and head. He was cold as ice, and it made it that much harder to stay positive. I thought about when Mother told us stories about raising us with help from my grandmother. Grandmother told her, whenever she got nervous about one of us getting sick or injured, "Children are resilient and your children are no exception. They'll come out of something with a few bangs on their arms, legs, or head, but by the very next day, they'll be back to doing it again." This story cheered me up, if only a little, because if Angela and I weren't exceptions, neither was Peter.

Now that Peter was in our arms, he was going in and out of consciousness. In one of the times he was more here than not, he uttered, "I don't need help. I had it under control...." and drifted off again.

"What are we going to do, Gwendy? If we don't help him soon, he'll die!" Angela looked to me, scared.

"We have to take him back, we have to leave Neverland and get him to a hospital—in the arms of safety." It was the only solution.

Tink was in vigorous disagreement, making fast and sharp movements, sputtering with angry sounds.

"This is bigger than you, Tinker Bell. It's bigger than your comfort and happiness. This is Peter's life, and I'm not going to let him die, because you can't stand to let him leave you. Because if he dies he'll have left you in a much worse way." She shrunk back in shame. "Now you're going to lead the way back home." And she did just that.

A/N: I know it's not very long, but I've been neglecting this story, so this will have to do for now.