The Dark Days

Twenty-Three.

Felix and I are sitting under the patio of his house, playing Chess, cross-legged, while the boys play Tag and arm wrestle. Felix is very slowly getting better, and he gets really close to beating me before I once again take charge. I'm not exactly a pro at chess, but I'm bad at it either, and it makes me happy to see how well he's progressing.

"Take your time, Felix," I tell him as he studies the board. I can see that he's struggling, but I'm very confident that this time he'll win. He takes his turn, and I suck a breath through my teeth. "Sorry," I say as I slide into Checkmate. "That was really close though."

Felix stares at the board for a moment. Instead of insisting on playing again, like he usually does, rage fills his eyes and he flips the board, making me jump while pieces fly all over me. "This is stupid!" he yells as he stands. "You always win, you never play fair!" The boys in the yard freeze and all of us stare up at him in horror, me most of all. I've never seen him this angry before. He growls, runs a hand through his hair, and stalks inside, slamming the screen door behind him. I stare after him in shock for a moment before standing up, scattering the pieces once again, and following him. I go straight to the kitchen. He's leaning against the counter, his fingernails digging into edge and trying to control his rage.

"What do you want now?" he cries when he sees me. "You want to play again? You want to beat me again? You're making me look stupid!" he snarls, but I don't back down. I cross my arms over my chest and give him a bored expression. "You keep saying that soon I'll beat you - every time!" he continues, and I wait patiently for him to be finished. "But I never do! I'll never be able to! I hate it! I hate you! You make me look like an idiot, and I'm tired of it! Just stop, and go away!" He pants to catch his breath as he finishes, his face angry and deeply flushed, and I wait for a little while longer before asking if he's done with his temper tantrum. Felix stares at me in shock.

"Is this how you got to second-in-command on Neverland?" I ask him. "Is this how you got so close to Peter? By always whining and crying to him as if he even cared?" I shake my head, scoffing. "Honestly, Felix, it's a mystery to me how you and him are so close. He acts like he knows everything, and yet here you are acting as if you know nothing." I take a step closer to him as his rage begins to come back. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, deadly calm. His eyes widen in surprise, rage disappearing from them completely. "Do you think I'm just going to sit here quietly while you act like a little bitch who wants their way? If you want something, Felix, you have to earn it. Life is a game - if you want to win, you have to earn it."

Felix stops me from going on - and surprises me enough to make me completely freeze - by crushing his mouth onto mine with shocking strength. I stand, completely frozen, and Felix's mouth begins to move against mine. His lips move, but mine do not. He tries to get a response out of me, but I dare not even breathe. One of his hands goes down to my waist and tries to pull me against him, but I decide that I've had enough. I push with all my strength against his chest and he stumbles away. I punch him in the jaw and his head rears back as he falls to the floor. I pounce on him and begin to throw punches to his face. I grunt with effort every time my fist connects with his face, and I can't stop. I just keep hitting him and hitting him and hitting him until someone grabs me from behind by my biceps and hauls me to my feet. I struggle to get out of their hold, tears suddenly soaking my cheeks, but I know that it's in vain. I stop struggling, but I don't relax.

Felix is on his left side on the floor, holding his bloody and bruised face. I can't help feeling a bit proud of how much it has to hurt. "Pan, I -" he begins, but he stops suddenly, eyes wide and panicked.

The look on Felix's face makes me too afraid to look at Peter. By this time I've figured out that it's him, and I know he's extremely angry. I don't dare look to see just how angry. His voice says it all. "Kasey," Peter says in a deathly calm voice that sends chilled bolts up and down my back and goosebumps to my skin, "kindly wait for me outside." But he doesn't release my arms.

"Please don't hurt him," I whisper. Peter's hands tighten around my arms and I feel his gaze on the side of my head. "He's already hurt enough -"

"He must learn," Peter hisses in my ear, making me bite back a sob. "I must teach him a lesson." He releases my arms and takes a step forward.

I jump in front of him and place my hands on his chest, just touching his collar bones, making his enraged green eyes look down into mine. I gulp. "I've already done that," I say, another tear cascading down my face and dripping off my chin. "Look at him. I've already done enough. He knows -"

"It's not up to you!" he cries suddenly, making me jump and back away quickly. "It's not your job to enforce discipline, it's mine! It's up to me whether or not he's punished further!" His breathing is ragged with anger and his hands are curled into fists. I barely contain my sobs. "Now move out of the way, or I'll -"

"You'll what?" I ask, my voice shaking with fear. "What will you do, Pan?" Peter flinched. "Will you hurt me? Slap me? Throw me out the door?" I take one step forward, my voice making Peter freeze where he stands. "Or will you make your boys do it, since you're too much of a coward to do it yourself?" It comes out pained, ragged, and cold. It makes even my skin freeze over.

Peter only stares, his eyes blank, his expression torn between horror and rage. "Why are you defending him?" he asks quietly, his voice disbelieving.

"Because he's not Picies," I hiss, taking another step toward him and getting in his face. "Because he's my friend, and I defend my friends, however angry I am with them." He looks away from my eyes, my own daring his to meet them. I get unbearably close, close enough that our noses nearly touch. "If you hurt him, I swear on Edith's grave, I will make you regret it."

And with that, I walk out of the kitchen, to the front door, and out of the house. For once I needed to control the words fighting to burst from my mouth.