The Dark Days

Fifteen.

My dream is strange. At first I'm happy, because I'm back in Neverland. I'm walking through the woods, admiring how the sun shines through the leaves and makes little beams. Peter's behind me. I can hear his footsteps and every now and then I look back at him. He smiles, but I won't smile back. I just turn back around and continue walking.

"You can't keep me here," I say after a moment.

"Yes, I can," he says gently, and I stop, turning to face him completely.

He stares at me with a soft smile, and I cross my arms over my chest. "Then you'll just have to put me in another cage," I say, straightening, and then turn back around, walking quicker than I had been before. I was relieved when I didn't hear Peter's footsteps behind me.

I walk to my boundary and stop. The blurry sheet between me and escaping. I finger my necklace as I cross my feet and sit heavily. Peter had given me this necklace during the Games. It was a brown leather cord with a gold heart pendant. It gave me insight; I saw Neverland before it was "destroyed", a couple of Lost Boys' memories, Peter's memories, and his evil plan to destroy Storybrooke. Now it was like a shock collar. I couldn't go past the boundary while I was wearing the necklace. No one but me and Peter can see it, and it only affects me. I can't go past it, and when I try, I get a pulse of electricity that knocks me out, and if it doesn't knock me out, it knocks me flat and paralyzes me. The barrier keeps me in Neverland, like a cage. I'm completely separated from everything I enjoy about this world. Unless you pass the barrier, I'm invisible.

I take a small rock and chunk it angrily at the milky sheet, mad that it passes right through. "I hate being stuck in this cage," I mutter to myself. "If I had known it would be this horrible, I would've done it." I sigh and lean back until my back is resting against the ground. "I would've left."

I cover my eyes with my palms and sigh again. Then I sit up again and pick up a small stick, doodling invisible images on my palm and forearm. "You should've left when you had the chance," I growl at myself angrily. "That was the only thing that could have stopped him. Leaving. And you couldn't." I throw the small stick. "How dare you be so selfish. How dare you believe someone like Peter would change his mind just because you asked him. How. Dare. You."

I close my eyes and put my face in my hands. "I'm such a coward. I was afraid of hurting him. I was afraid he would hurt me. I've never been so stupid in my life. I should've left. For once in my existence, I should've thought about myself and done what I knew was good for me!"

I stand up, my hands shaking with anger. "I SHOULD HAVE LEFT!" I scream as loud as I can. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself and turn away from the barrier. I take three steps forward, but stop, and turn around to face the barrier again. I take deep breaths as I take a few more steps back and close my eyes. "I'm sorry, Peter," I whisper, and then run full-force to the milky white sheet.

As soon as I hit it I feel a pain like nothing I have ever felt before. I feel as if every single nerve in my body exploded, and I nearly wet myself. When I feel this I shoot awake, gasping, and breathing hard. My nerves are still on fire, but it fades quickly.

When I get my breathing evened out I rub my eyes, getting the roughness out of them and climb out of the bed. I walk to the door and try it, even though I know it's locked. When it doesn't open I go back to the bed and sit heavily.

Ten seconds later I hear footsteps outside the door. Quick, light footsteps. The door opens and Peter walks in, looking a little excited. But I don't look at him. I'm still trying to rein in the horse called "my bearings."

"Hey," he says as the door closes. "You miss me?"

I just nod slightly.

Peter frowns and comes to sit next to me. He wraps his arm around me and kisses my cheek, but I hardly notice. He says something that I don't catch, which makes me look at him. "Huh?" I say, sounding a little tuned out.

"I asked you what was wrong," he says, staring deeply into my eyes. "Have you been crying?" He brings his hand up to cup my cheek and brushes his thumb over it.

"Uh, have I?" I ask, touching my face. Sure enough, there's tears. "That's strange. I fell asleep, must've been crying in my sleep."

"Why would you be crying in your sleep?" he asks softly, moving his hand from my face and to my waist. His other hand grips one of mine.

"I just had a nightmare," I say, looking away. "It's nothing."

"What was it about?" he asks, bringing my pale, shaky hand into his lap. "You're shaking," he says, frowning at my hand. Then he looks up into my eyes, his own very soft.

"It scared me," I says, then mentally facepalm. He chuckles.

"Yes, I know that," he says, chuckling again. "But why?"

I don't want to tell him. I don't want to get the idea into his head; the barrier was a prison I would never have to endure if I had any say in the matter - which I do.

"Really, Peter," I say, my voice calm but my eyes begging. "It's nothing. I'd rather not talk about it."

Peter stares at me for another second, then nods and kisses my forehead. "Okay. But I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. You know this, yes?"

I nod and force a tiny smile. He kisses my forehead again and then brings me into his chest. I sigh and let my head rest on his shoulder. "I love you," I mutter, and I hear his breath come out of his nose as he smirks.

"I love you, too," he says, kissing my hair twice. He rests his chin on my head and pulls me into his lap.

"We should probably eat this before it gets cold," he says after a minute, and kisses my hair again. He pulls away and reaches for something behind his back. I try to climb out of his lap, but he catches my waist, lowering me back into his lap.

I'm quiet while we eat, and when we're finished, he lays across the bed, his hand on my bare thigh. "You should try and get some more sleep," he mutters, tugging at my arm. "Come. Lie down with me."

I roll my eyes and lay down next to him, snuggling into his side. Peter's hand leaves my right leg and goes to my left one, pulling it over his own leg. Peter kisses me softly and I burrow deeper into him. He chuckles and turns onto his side, putting our foreheads together.

"Close your eyes...," Peter whispers softly, his hand coming up and his fingertips closing my eyes. They slipped back open and he closes them again. I yawn, then open them again. He closes them.

After doing this back and forth for about three and a half minutes, I fall asleep.