Decadent Rose (ON HOLD)

Nightmare State I 5

Sorry about it's quality. I've been busy of late so this one's not great. :) (Hey, that rhymed) - (almost)

Peter

Three days. It had been three, agonizingly long days since Peter had last seen Emily’s dark azure eyes and his patience was quickly wearing thin. Where his days were previously spent hunting for some mysteriously powerful girl, they were now spent sitting idly beside Emily’s stoic body, waiting and remaining by her side till she woke.

She never moved. She never flinched or made a sound. She never gave him any hope that she would wake and with each passing hour he grew increasingly agitated. Dillon had been constantly telling him to calm down, to take a break and go for a walk to get some air – all of which Peter responded to with progressively dangerous glares. He didn’t understand. Peter had a plan, perhaps not a well-structured plan, but it was a plan none the less.

As soon as she would wake – and Peter  knew she would – he would take out his beloved knife resting comfortingly in his boot and press it against her throat, gently at first, then harder till the first drop of blood ran down her neck and she would let out a sob, he imagined. With as little words as possible, he would explain to her who he was – though she doubted she didn’t already have some idea – and then force her to help. If she didn’t, she would forfeit her life.

He sat, a headache slowly forming in his head as he played idly with his magic, forming a small white light above his palm and forcing it around the room for a few laps. It felt like exercise to him now as simply using the magic made a sheen of sweat cover his skin and a strange unfamiliar weakness over to his body. In Neverland, magic had been as easy as thinking. Now, it was as difficult as persuading a starved lion that you weren’t the enemy. 

“Pan” Dillon’s voice startled him out of his trance as he blinked to find Dillon leaning against the wall, a frown covering his face.

Peter scowled “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing” Dillon shrugged and made sure Peter was watching him as he slid casually down the wall till he sat opposite Peter who sat with his legs tucked up against his chest. Peter bit back a snappy comment as he continued to glare. “I’m not here for you, if that’s what you’re getting at” Peter couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind; that perhaps their little argument had been something of his own imagination, but by the unimpressed stare Dillon was shooting at he, he doubted it had been.

Dillon had been his very first Lost Boy. When Peter had discovered Neverland in all its uncopiable beauty, he realised he didn’t want to be alone. There was so much to see, but he’d seen it all and he’d thought part of him would revel in the satisfaction at getting to show it to all others who were lost. After all, Peter had once been a Lost Boy himself. He knew the loneliness as though it were a friend, but he couldn’t deny his need for company against loneliness’s screams and so he had found Dillon, young quiet Dillon, hiding away in an alley. The sobs of him had haunted Peter as he had walked past, haunted him so much he felt compelled to take him away from the loneliness. And he had. Dillon owned him everything, so he had no idea what strange power complex made him think anything different. “I’m here for her” Dillon’s head nodded at Emily’s still form “Not for you. If it wasn’t for her, I would be out of here before you could even say ‘Neverland’.”

“Good for you” Peter grumbled “But I’m in this for the true prize. Not to keep some little girl from waking up with a bloody headache”

“This is your fault Pan” Dillon muttered scornfully.

Peter closed his palm and stopped the magic as he stood, fighting back his true rage “While she sleeps her elongated time away, I am withering away Dillon.”