Set Your Sails...to Atlantis || Peter Pan, OUAT

Chapter Six - Time, and Time Again

~ Davina

I appear in the centre of my ship, just next to the mast, and startle the Lost Boys. To my surprise, they greet me with relief and...joy? Perhaps a bit of stretch, but as they crowd around me, I feel a sense of genuine warmth emanating from them for the first time.

"Davina!"

Peter pushes through them, his expression a mixture of concern and relief as he cradles the sides of my face, pushing loose hair away from my face and searching my eyes.

"Where have you been? What happened? I used the shell but you never responded. We couldn't return to the mainland, the King's men-"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain. I was on the docks, but Beckett had me cornered-" I begin.

"Couldn't you have just poofed yourself out of there?" Felix interrupts.

"I can't let the enemy know of our tricks."

"And yet when you arrived on Neverland and Pan asked what you can do, you willingly told him everything," Felix mentions.

"There's a bit of difference between Peter asking me what skills I have and the King, and his men, knowing I have magic. His Majesty wouldn't hesitate to use me, or us, to take out entire realms if I revealed my new talent. Got to leave some surprises," I reply. "The key to being a pirate is secrecy."

But even as I say those words, the weight of my secret meeting with Facilier makes my heart sink, and the talisman suddenly feels too present in my hand. A wave of light-headedness washes over me, and I stumble. Peter catches me, and I wince as his hand squeezes the same arm as the bullet wound.

"Oh right...that," I say.

"Come on, let's get you healed up," Peter says, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"Boys, prepare to make sail," I order.

My leg weakens, exploding with pain and I stumble again. Peter deftly scoops me up in his arms, and carries me up and through to our quarters. He lays me down gently on the bed, then pulls the sleeve of the dress down to inspect the wound.

"You seem to have a tendency to get seriously injured when I leave you unsupervised," Peter comments, pulling the rag Jack had tied haphazardly around my shoulder.

Clearly, the minor movements of using my magic caused the sensitive wound to reopen again. The dried blood clings stubbornly to my skin, and I grit my teeth against the sting.

"It's not a tendency, it's an occupational hazard," I correct. "I'm certain the bullet went straight through. I can heal it if it did."

"I'll do it. You're in no state to be channeling that much magic right now."

"Bloody hell, okay..." I sigh and grit my teeth as I sit myself up.

Peter hovers his hand over the wound, pale green magic emanating from his palm and wrapping around my shoulder. I feel the muscle and skin knit itself back together, and I focus on that feeling instead of the sharp sting of his magic healing me. Finally, it subsides, and all that's left is a pale pink mark. I feel as though I can breathe properly again. I slide off the bed, and pull the skirts of the dress up to examine why my leg hurts. And the purple hue already starting to form on top of the swollen thigh muscle. Well, that'll do it.

This time, I wave my own hand over my injury - a minor one in comparison - and the sting only lasts seconds. Relief floods through me. I drop the skirts and straighten up.

"Now that you're whole again, you don't want to explain what's going on with what you're wearing?" Peter says and casts his eyes over the dress.

"Oh his Highness didn't think my pirate clothing was 'ladylike' enough for his presence. Easily fixed," I say dryly.