Peter Pan and the Lost

Buckeye

Time had moved in where it shouldn't have. Yet it was kicked out as fast as it came in. The same way that wounds heal, scars are mended, bruises lose their colour, so did Neverland. The burnt trunks slowly parted for new trees and flowers. The world of imagination repaired slowly and methodically, taking suggestions from the stars and other worlds aside from Earth.

It was on this reviving island, on the shoreline of one of the new beaches, that a shadowless Peter Pan stood alone. Even the boy who Never Grew Up changed with the island. His tunic of jay feathers and autumn leaves covered his torso in a mess of tangled reds, oranges and yellows, the Glider loyally at his right side, kept there by a mess of knots . The wind blew through his dark red hair as he looked to the star where his friends left. The sky was occupied by the sun and moon, the daylight and moonlight agreeing to share the sky of a deep blue mixed with purple, black and shimmering white.

The waves lapped at his feet as he forced down the urge to fly to them and bring them back. The train waited in the station for them, with fish bigger than horses at the sides. The blue and red fairies realized there wasn't any reason to fight each other; there was nothing on the island that would eat them. He wanted to show them the changing world, even sand shifted around under his feet. But alas, he couldn't fly until his shadow grew back. So he stared upwards.

He felt like he woke up from a bad dream. He couldn't explain it, but he felt more like he was in a certain rush, like everything he had done went by too fast to really comprehend. He wasn't in the mood to have an adventure, so instead he walked. Through the charred remains of the forest. To a friend's hive, where she spent most of her time with her fellow flyer.

...

They were busy making a happier color than yellow. Tinkerbell had a huge paint brush in her arms, swirling the colors of a nearby rainbow in a counter-clockwise fashion. She had taken off the yellow ribbon and tried adding various colors that glittered and made the birds flying by feel good about themselves. Fireflyer was admiring their work from afar while trying to get the Sun's attention.

"Won't you come see this? It's the happiest color you've ever seen! You'd love it!"

The Sun looked apprehensively at how they were making the color. The rainbow didn't seem to notice.

Peter could see his light shining high in the sky. He was too determined to find others that he forgot to grow his shadow back.

"Fireflyer, where's Tink?" He shouted loud enough that even the Sun looked towards him.

"She's flown away, Pan! Never to return."

Peter gave an exasperated sigh. He learned from Slightly to not believe him. Why did I even bother?

"You're such a liar, Fireflyer!"

He innocently bowed in midair as he returned to haggling with the sun to use the new color.

He saw a blast of air whip across the sky, a rainbow missing its colors. It must have woken up. Tinkerbell rushed after it with a paint can.

"Wait! Wait! I can fix you! It's what I do! I fix things! Wait!"

The rainbow rushed away in shame. A rainbow without its colors is like going to school in your undergarments. It is absolutely embarrassing.

Her disappointment was abated as soon as she saw Peter. He looked much different than the last time she cared to see him. Like he woke up from a sort of trance. She flew straight to his face, embracing him on his right cheek, her small body trying to cover all of the freckles on the side of his face.

He was immediately flooded with supernatural happiness as the two of them exchanged happy memories they each experienced away from each other.

What are you doing here, Peter?