Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His lemon grass eyelids open to a resenting smell. His temples throbbed with every intake of breath, and he reached under his pillow for his phone. The sun leaked its way through his blinds and lit his room awake. 10:43am, the numbers read, along with a string of messages from “My Love.” He flipped his head down to see the bottom bunk, his nest of dark hair floating below his head. His sister’s blanket was entangled with her sheets, but the girl was noticeably absent.

Plopping his feet down on his carpeted floor, he kicked dirty clothes from his way, tossing them to the piling basket. As he came out of his shared bedroom, he looked across the hall to see the door to his baby sister’s room open. He let out a breath of exhaustion.

He had hoped he had got up before the girls did. What time did he go to bed last night, he thought as he descended the steps. The smell roamed deeper into his nose and became so unbearable, even though plugging his nose. From the final steps, he spotted his mother, wide awake, fiddling with the curtains.

“Morning,” He called. No response. “What are you doing?”

“I’m fixing the curtains.” His mother replied. “I found these at Goodwill last night. I spray painted them and now I’m trying to assemble them- Hey!” She suddenly snapped. “The house was trashed last night! I thought you were supposed to watch the girls.”

“I did!" He defended. Truth be told, he got high with his brother last night and still doesn’t know what happened.

Suddenly, Ira, who was only 2 years old, made a beeline for the kitchen, her diaper sinking into the floor.

“Mom!” He shouted. “Ira’s diaper!”

“Oh, yeah,” His mother replied, looking back with her dilated pupils. “Can you change her?”

He attempted to catch Ira before she had a chance to reach the kitchen. “Yeah…”

Stepping his way into the kitchen, he spotted the red light indicating the stove was on. He approached the stove carrying the squirming child, and spotted a nail, half melted on a stainless steel pan.

“Mom!” He screamed. “Why is there a nail on the stove?!”

“Why are you shouting?!” She screamed back. “I was trying to loosen- You're making the baby cry!”

His mother stomped into the kitchen and took the child from the arms of the 17-year-old boy.

“No, she’s crying because you didn’t change her diaper!” He shouted back. “What the hell? Where is Claire?”

His mother stepped up the stairs, hushing the crying child. “Addie took her to the park.”

He turned off the stove and removed the hot pan. As he ran cold water over the nail, he grabbed a knife and repeatedly jammed it to the dish. 

He was sick. Sick of this house. Sick of tripping over unfinished projects. He knew what his mom was using, but every time an intervention was done, she would relapse. It’s how addiction worked. He was sick of this cyclical lifestyle of hoping and dreaming only to get crushed down and neglected and left hoping once more.

Without thinking he took out his phone and texted his girlfriend, “you free today?”

He got home late that night. So late in fact, the sky lightened, and the stars faded away. The sun had yet to creep over the horizon. The only people up at this hour on a Sunday morning were morning runners and churchgoers. The house was quiet and surprisingly clean. He suspected his mom was either out or still awake upstairs.

The kitchen was spotless. He could hear it now: his mother went berserk on his siblings, and them panicking, cleaned the house since it was one less thing for her to worry about. He took a beer from the fridge and cracked it open, stumbling carelessly upstairs.

He peeked into his mother’s room. Her body lay practically lifeless on her sheets, her phone dropping out of her hand. Shelves were clutter, and the bathroom light was still on.

He stepped into his bedroom, which was quiet and clean. Addie was back home and asleep with Claire on her bottom bunk. Upon entering, he maneuvered around a mountain of dirty laundry. Once he stepped over it, a bunkbed to his left, a dresser to the right. Leaning on the wall and on top of the dresser was a great mirror, smudged near the bottom frame with tiny fingerprints. On the bottom bunk beside the smudged mirror were his sister,s Addie and Claire.

The boy kneeled before them and kissed Claire’s soft head. She was barely 5, her soft eyelashes over her rosy cheeks. Sweat beaded her skin and soaked her thin brown hair. He was too tired to cry tonight. He wanted something better for her. Better for all of them. He wrapped his finger around her hand and squeezed, kissing the pale flesh.

Will climbed up into his top bunk and laid his head on top of the sheets that had been abandoned around his skin. He hoped for help. He prayed for sleep. He dreamt he would wake up in a different place. But when he woke up, he was met with the same place, the sun hovering over his blinds.

The same smells, the same soft sheets, the same screaming.

Screaming is what he heard in the morning. His mother rustled all around the house for her wallet. Or perhaps it was her keys this time. Or maybe her glasses. She always lost something.

He comprehended his place in his bed. He knew his sister was not below him. He heard her trying to calm their mother down in the echoing kitchen. She only got like this when she was going through withdrawal.

Should I pretend to sleep? He thought. Maybe sleeping would give the illusion that maybe his mother couldn’t lecture him about him going missing yesterday.

That didn’t stop her.

“And don’t think you are let off the hook from last night’s stunt you pulled!” She screamed.

He pretended to be half asleep. “What?” He drawled

“Where were you?!”

The brunette thought about his answers before he settled on, “Friends.”

“You are grounded!” She shouted. “I can’t believe you! I almost called the police!”

No, you didn’t, he thought. You only pretended to care. Perhaps that wasn’t true. But it sure felt like it.

“If Rob was here, you would never do that!” She said. “You treat him so differently! I should just stay with him to make you listen.”

Her words stung but stayed true, nonetheless. He would listen because he preferred Rob yelling over a fist into his face.

“Yeah, because I’m scared of him.” He let it slip out of his lips before he could catch it.

“Give me your phone!” She demanded. “How could you do that? You made your sisters worried sick.”

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled, watching his mother leave his bedroom open.

“Your siblings stayed and watched the girls while you were out partying!”

“I wasn’t partying,” He said. “I was-”

“Bullshit!” She screamed.

It went on like that for a while until she finally left for work. It seemed endless. The boy wanted to crawl up into a ball and die. Nobody knew what she did for a living. But nothing was endless. Addie stomped upstairs and opened their door.

“I need you to take Ira today.” She demanded.

“Did you change her?” He replied.

“No, Clayton did.”

Later that afternoon, the boy stayed in the kitchen, washing the dishes that piled up over the day. Claire and Ira sat quietly watching their shows in a dimly lit living room. Eventually he drifted off into the patio, music blasting through his ears as he lit a cigarette.  He enjoyed these moments when it was quiet. Where it was him.

He hasn’t been answering his girlfriend over the phone, and she has been blowing him up. Sending and deleting messages, petty back-handed comments, and calling him over and over. He couldn’t care less. He left his phone off and took another rip of his cigarette.

When the stick was nothing but ash and filter, he flicked it out onto the concrete corner dedicated to cigarette buts.  Wandering back inside, he plucked Ira from the couch and put her in bed with Addie, who slept soundly on the bottom bunk. Then, he carried the other toddler to her bed across the hall.

Stepping soundlessly down the carpeted steps, He spotted Clayton, his older brother, exit his room and cross into the kitchen.

“You know, you scared us,” Clayton said, opening the fridge.

“Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” The other boy shrugged, following him. “You guys do it all the time. Plus, I was just stressed.”

“You can’t abandon us like that,” Clayton argued, slamming the fridge door shut.

“Why?” He crossed his arms and pivoted to the sink to check if dishes had piled up. “Because you can’t do it without me?”

“Whatever,” Clayton grumbled. “I’m just saying it’s selfish.”

Those words hit and crossed over the burnette's chest like a dagger over his ribcage. He put down the rag and gripped the counter, hearing Clayton stumble back into his bedroom. He took a short and trembling breath until it sank into his closing throat.

“Selfish," He mumbled. “Of course."

He sank his body into his mattress around 2 am. His room was quiet and enveloped with darkness. The moon above him let in dim light through the open blinds. He turned onto his side, his back to the door. He gazed out of the window to watch the car whisk by his neighborhood.

He caught himself hoping again. Hoping for anything. Hoping to die. Hoping to leave. To go somewhere. Anywhere else. The ache in his throat tightened and he felt his eyes swell with tears.

“Are you okay?” Addie asked from the bottom bunk.

He quickly wiped his tears. “Yeah. Go back to bed.”

The brunette woke up without a blanket to cover him. He woke up on a cold and hard mattress. His body throbbed and ached as he attempted to move it. He smelled smoke, and his joints sparked with pain whenever he pulled them up. His first thought was that he was missing something. Opening his blue eyes, he saw he was shirtless, with bruises and scars over his contoured torso.

“Where…?” He crowed out, feeling his throat itch with every word. He coughed out his breath.

“Easy,” A voice came.

He took a slow, deep breath through his mouth, feeling the tightness of his chest. “What the hell?”

“You’re safe,” The voice answered.

“Where am I?” He asked.

The stranger jolted up when another walked into the room through a thick skin curtain. “The boys found him on the beach.” He explained to the boy who walked in. When he opened his eyes to get a good look at the boy, he saw he was around his age, with dark brown eyes and fluffy hair that was combed up. His skin was a deep bronze and his eyes an infinite black. He turned back toward him and kneeled.

“You were hurt badly.” The boy said.

“What?” He crooked again.

 “Relax, man, you're going to make your wounds open up again.”

"Wounds? Who the hell are you?” He asked.

The boy took a rag and dunked it into the bucket. “Blake. You?”

He attempted to speak once more, only to cough again. Blake eased him back against the mattress. What was his name? He searched for it in his mind until he was sure of it. Yes, his name.

“Will,” He finally said, never more uncertain about anything in his life. “William.”

“Well, William.” Blake smiled at Will, standing up once again. Will now saw the attire he was in. Animal clothes, a cloak around his neck that drooped down to his leather belt. His pants were short and torn at the mid-calf. He didn’t wear shoes. He smelled of dry dirt and sawed wood. “Welcome to Neverland.”

Chapter Text

“Easy,” Blake guided him out of the hut.

The sun burned down onto Will’s face, brighter than he had ever seen it before. The trees acted as a barricade from the painful heat. Once his eyes adjusted to such brightness, he blinked to see he was on a balcony patio of sorts. He looked down to see a fire pit, surrounded by boys. It resembled a campsite.

“Woah,” Will blurted.

“Don’t worry,” Blake assured. “I’ll explain everything. Follow me.”

Will followed him (still very shirtless.) Suddenly, music filled the forest around them. A windpipe flute floated through the air in a sound so delicate, Will could feel it brush past his skin.  They passed the bridge that seemingly connects two treehouses. He gazed down at the fire pit to see the boys dancing around it.

“What are they doing?”

“Celebrating,” Blake answered, opening the door to the tree house. “You’re the new Lost Boy.”

“Lost Boy?” Will asked. “What’s-”

“No more questions,” Blake ordered, grabbing Will’s hands. “I told you I would explain everything, didn’t I?”

“You did…” Will agreed. He didn’t trust him, but there was something about the smile on this boy’s face that seemed genuinely joyful that he was here.

“This is your cabin,” Blake explained. “You have a bathroom there, and a closet there. You're lucky. You got one of the larger ones since the last- well, never mind. I’ll tell you that later. Your clothes are in this dresser. But if you need more. I might have some spares. We look the same size.” Blake took it upon himself to step very close to William. He gazed over Will’s chest, feeling his shoulders and down his biceps. “Yeah, you're a medium.”

He was not a medium.

“Meet me by the fire pit when you're done!” Blake crossed over to the front door and left it open for Will to keep hearing the music that ran through his ears. It felt like a blissful high he couldn’t come down from. Where was that pipe coming from? He hadn’t heard anything like it before.

When Will was covered by an animal skin shirt that fit snugly around his waist, he let his bare feet wrap around the ladder, his body stinging with each latch. When the balls of his toes made contact with the dirt, the music stopped.

Eyes stared at him. He stared back. Quickly, one stood up and smiled.

“So, he is alive!” He called. “We were sure you died.”

This boy had dark caramel skin, so dark that it couldn’t be excused as a suntan. His hair was short and black. He was shorter than him but held himself high. He had big eyes and talked with an English accent.

“Me too.” Will joked, walking toward them. The grass poked and ached under the sharp rock and pebbles.

“Don’t pay attention to him.” Another stood up. “He’s just cranky his boyfriend isn’t here with him!”

“Man, fuck you!” The first boy shouted.

“Sandesh!” Another boy shouted back. “Don’t let Pan hear you talking like that!”

The black-haired boy, who was named Sandesh, stood up and playfully smacked the boy who shouted at him. They wrestled for a moment, and boys shouted for who would win. Will smiled in disbelief at such playful air.

“Sandesh! Jared!” A bright blonde, followed by Blake, shouted. “Enough.”

Sandesh and Jared separated. Blake gave the bright blonde a side eye before he nodded, silently ordering Blake. Blake jogged over to Will.

“I see you met the boys.” Blake joked.

“I thought you killed him!” Sandesh walked over and slapped him twice on the back of the neck. Blake whipped his hand over Sandesh’s head, earning a laugh from him. “Missed me!”

“Oh sure,” He rang out. Looking back at Will, Blake pointed behind him at Jared. “That’s Jared.”

Jared had dark skin and dark black eyes. He had no hair but muscular shoulders and biceps. He was as tall as Sandesh, which wasn’t by much, perhaps taller. He made a face at Will that made the brunette chuckle. He could recognize when another boy was attractive, and this one was.

“And who’s that?” Will pointed at the bright blonde.

“Felix,” Blake explained. “Don’t talk to him. He’s weird. But don’t disobey him. He’s like second in command.”

“Disobey him?” Will mocked. “Second in command to who?”

“Relax.” Blake made a gesture with his hands. He pointed at the crowd of boys and picked out one, the boy who originally made the comment about Blake being Sandesh’s boyfriend.

“Devin.” He said. Devin had brown hair and dark blue eyes. He looked younger, perhaps 14 or 13.

“Jah’sir.” He pointed at a tall man with short dreads that hung over his eyes. He was sitting laughing with Jared. He was lanky and not that muscular. However, he had a sharp jawline and piercing grey eyes.

Will’s eyes wandered around. “There are 8 tree houses. 7 boys.”

Blake nodded. “7 boys. 1 leader.”

Will’s eyes suddenly widened as his gaze locked on the largest of treehouses, on the tallest tree, hidden above leaves and branches. A shadow walked past a bridge that led to the home. The front door opened and slammed shut. Just as quickly, the balcony of the treehouse opened, revealing Felix and another boy.

He couldn’t make out much from him, the sun glaring down at him.

“You’ll meet him eventually.” Blake shrugged. “Let me show you the hunting grounds.”

There was something strange about this place. Something unanswered. Will couldn’t remember much. Not much thought began to prosper about how he got onto the island. Not much as an idea was wept to create in his mind for him to return to his family. In fact, as far as he was concerned. This was his home.

Still, there was something deceptive about this place. Everything was so peaceful. So cheerful. Careless. Like the whole island was under some kind of spell. What was weirder is that once Will stepped back into his cabin when the sun took away the light of day. He saw a shadow in the corner of his eye.

But only a dark corner of his hut lay for his eyes to see.

Life grew deadly around him as darkness consumed the camp. Blake made it clear not to leave his cabin during the night on the island.

Once he heard such sweet music, he couldn’t sleep. He needed to see where it was coming from. Could no other boy hear it? The soft, low whistle of pipes?

His bare feet guided him across bridges and balconies. He kept on climbing. It was a sort of trance he didn’t care to snap out of. This music brought him such joy, he couldn’t dare attempt to strip himself away of it. The pipes ceased their playing once Will’s hands wrapped around a doorknob.

He snapped out of it. But it was too late.

He opened the door.

A boy lay on a small brown couch cushion, soft and low, eyes closed. But not for long. They snapped open once the front door creaked open. He was no older than him. Even through the moonlight, Will could make out the silver-green of his eyes and chestnut blonde of his hair and contoured limbs as they jumped up off his sofa.

“What are you doing here?” His British accent snarled. “What do you want?!”

“I heard-” Will stumbled back, against the door.

“You what?” He shouted. His eyes filled with rage, Will couldn’t dare fall for it. He wanted to crumble to his knees. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run.

“I heard the pipes and I-”

Suddenly, those angry eyes lifted into disbelief and blissful surprise. His rosy lips parted. Will trembled.

“Get out,” He said softly, tossing his pipes to the cushion. Will didn’t move, frozen with fear. “Didn’t you hear me?! I said get out!”

This time, Will moved. He ripped open the door and slammed it shut, the night engulfing him into darkness once again. He didn’t move. And then suddenly, he heard it again—the pipes.

With his hand still gripping the doorknob, he smiled suddenly. He couldn’t help it. The sound was enough to make anyone turn and smile. It split his face and ached his cheeks.

Then it all fell. It all crashed down, and his smile molded into a horrified frown. He let go of the doorknob and stumbled against the wooden railing behind him.

That was Peter Pan. And he was in Neverland.

He turned but, in the darkness, he had nothing to guide him but the moon and his memory. He found the bridge and bolted.

Chapter Text

He knew. He knew where he was. He has read the story books. Anybody who had a regular childhood knows about Peter Pan. Despite Will’s lacking of such, a crazy euphoria drifted across his body. Perhaps he was having a surreal dream, a nightmare result of his pleas in the middle of the night. He didn’t believe in God consistently, but the thought of divine punishment did cross his mind. He needed to get off the island. And he knew from the movies and books how: pixie dust. And a pirate ship. He also needed a pirate ship.

He was one of the few Lost Boys who exited their hut early in the morning. The same lost boys didn’t pay attention when Will looked for the sign pointing to the beach. He didn’t bother with breakfast and ran straight down the path. The animal skin leather made him sweat more than the hot summer sun did. The leaves drifted past his skin and ripped across it, leaving bright pink scratches over his pale, already scarred arms.

Leaves and branches crunch below his feet. He didn’t care how bruised and bloodied they would become. He assumed the other boys have been barefoot since they arrived here, their feet adapting and becoming stronger than his were currently.

Once his feet hit the hot sand, his body ached in terror. A great, big pirate ship bigger than anything he had ever seen before rocked side to side on a seemingly endless sea. Distantly, he heard the shouting of commands over the rush of waves thundering against his feet. He glanced back at his footsteps that followed him out of the forest. Another brush of water swept over his ankles and pulled his attention back to the escape waiting him. Don’t look back, the water said. You’re not going that way.  He took a big breath of air and dived into the water.

The rope was rough and burned as it rubbed against his salty skin. When his feet hit the planks of the ship, he crumbled down, out of breath.

“What are you doing here?” One pirate clamored.

“I need to get out of here.” Will coughed. “Pirates, I need-”

“Woah, woah, calm down.” A girl, with bright blonde hair kneeled before Will and put a cold palm to his cheek. “You’re burning up. Are you ill?”

“No, I’ve-” Will laughed, cheeks aching. “I’ve just been swimming awhile. I need to get home. I need to go back. I don’t want to be here.”

“Are you a Lost Boy?” One pirate blurted, reaching for his sword. Something flickered in each pirates eyes, a venomous thirst for violence. Will’s stomach sank below the ship and into the deepest depths of the ocean.

“No, I just got here.” He lied. But perhaps it wasn’t a lie after all. A falsehood he could command into existence. “I woke on the beach and I-”

“Okay, relax.” The blonde assured. She seemed more eager to help than the rest.

Swiping her hand away, Will rose from the deck. “I’m Will.”

She rose to her feet with him. “Kayleigh.” She smiled sweetly at him. He thinned his lips and nodded. He’s never seen such blue eyes.

 “Let’s go talk to the Captain.” She said. “I’m sure word has already spread.”

Kayleigh guided him through the deck and into a room that seemed to be directly beneath where they steered the ship. Captain’s quarters, Will thought. With a sharp knock and a low, gruff voice, Kayleigh entered.

“Captain, may I present, William.” She said with a slight bow of her head.

“It’s just Will.” He mumbled to her.

“Ah!” He said with a smile. “So, you're the boy who was causing all this commotion!”

Will’s heart leaped to his throat. He made a sudden mental note to not expect anything out of any rendition of the story Peter Pan. When Will expected long wavy hair cascading down to the end of his bright red over coat, he was met with a haircut not to different than his, and black leather. Black leather everywhere.

It was also at this point that Will noticed Kayleigh had left him alone with the Captain. Traitor, he thought.

“Yeah-” His voice was wobbly and fatigued. “Yeah. I’m from the island. I just got here. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I need to go home.”

“And I understand your first thought was to come to my ship?”

Will paused, quickly feeling stupid. “Well, can’t we sail away?”

Captain Hook smirked and stood up. “Yes and no. Not that simple.” And this would be where he would explain that they needed Pixie Dust. Some part of Will tensed up with fear that Peter Pan would recognize his disappearance by now and come looking.

“Can I stay?” Will asked suddenly.

“Of course!” Captain Hook lifted a bottle off of his desk and took a swish. “How old are you?”

“17, sir.”

Captain Hook mumbled under his breath and clicked his tongue. “Pan got you in the nick of time. He doesn’t let adults come to the island.”

“Then why are you here?”

The captain laughed. “I came here a while ago, before the Lost Boys.” He stood up. “But enough of that. I will show you to your room and we will celebrate in your honor.”

A lot of people are celebrating my arrival, Will thought. What was so important about him?

The night came quickly.  The sun was on his side, wanting the next day to come quickly. Each minute, he feared Pan would come. Each minute, not a sound. Not a word.

Kayleigh and Will hung around the deck. She gave him her pirate hat. It didn’t fit right, but he could feel his child self was proud he was living his dream. And he forgot about Pan. He forgot about time. As the sun ceased from the sky, the other pirates got out the lanterns and bottles of rum. When offered, Will took the bottle. When the music came, he danced. Instead of the pipes and drums from camp, the music was a small violin played by a man named Vincent.

Vincent gave Will his pair of boots, his sore feet wouldn’t blister and bruise more than they already have. As he drank, his world blurred. The buzz began behind his eyes and ears. Suddenly he was dancing with Kayleigh.

She moved without care and commanded the attention of everyone on the ship. A swarm of moths surrounding the dancing flame. He followed her lead with drumming boots and swinging arms.

Her hands painted their way across his chest like brushes on a canvas. With one hand on his leather belt, she raised her hand to hold his untamed black curls.

“Look at those two,” Connor, a pirate, jokes with Vincent.

“You’ll get some soon.” He replied with a fit of laughter.

“I wasn’t talking about Kayleigh,” Connor confessed, a smirk on his face as he admired Will’s broken hands and how they gripped and squeezed every spot of skin around Kayleigh’s body.

When their lips met for the first time, they were alone in Will’s bedroom. Kayleigh quickly undressed herself and let her skirt fall to the floor. Will’s hands trembled. Kayleigh’s legs swung around his hips, sinking herself through him.

A cry leapt out from his throat, loud enough for the crew to hear. Kaleigh covered his mouth and giggled. 

🟈

Will jumped from his mattress. A slam snapped him awake and quickly into soberness. Kayleigh stirred sleepily beside him, wrapping her hand around his bicep.

“Will,” She wined, half asleep.

“What was that?” He asked, looking up. The dawn peeked through the room. He listned intently for any other following disruption.

“What was what?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.

Then the shouting came. Multiple voices, but one stuck out to him. One that rippled shock and anticipation through his entire frame. Blake. The Lost Boys have come to find him.

“Oh, shit,” He gasped, tripping over himself as he reached for his jeans.

When he was dressed in only trousers, Kayleigh jumped from her bed, threw on a shirt around her, and followed him up the stairs. Once they made it to the deck, Will saw the ship was surrounded. He counted them one by one. Blake with his bow and arrow. Sandesh with his crossbow, Jah’ sir with his hands clenched, Devin with two small daggers, Felix with a single staff, and Jared, fists up.

Blake, who was perched above locked eyes with Will. He shouted to him, suddenly taking a rope and swung himself to the deck. He landed with a thud of his boots, his short black hair weaving in front of his eyes. “Will, are you okay?”

It all happened too fast for Will to conjure a excuse or story. Kayleigh, who stood behind him, shoved Will toward Blake.

“You know these boys?!” She screamed at him.

Will swung around to face her, hands up in defense. “Kayleigh- Let me-”

A stinging slap came his way, right across his face. “Liar!”

Will turned back to Blake, only now realizing he was still wearing the boots and pirate hat. Blake’s bright black eyes widened.

“You… joined them?” He stepped back, lowering his bow. "I thought you were one of us!”

“Blake!” Will called. “I need to go home. We all need to go home! I have a family!”

“No!” He shrieked. “We are your family!” He pointed his arrow at Captain Hook. “They are nothing but ruthless, backstabbing, revenge-fueled pirates.”

Captain drew his sword, but before he could mark up Blake, another pair of boots slammed onto the deck from above, between Blake and Captain Hook. Nothing prepared Will for how he would look the first time he laid eyes on Peter Pan. In darkness illuminated by candlelight for only a moment. And then, in board daylight where his chestnut hair seemed to glow. He stood between Will and Blake. Will, between Pan and Hook.

“You have something that belongs to me,” Pan commanded. “I demand it back.”

His eyes. Oh, Pan’s eyes. Will felt suddenly very afraid. He lied to Hook. He lied to them all, putting them all in danger. Will glanced back at Hook for one final plea for mercy.

Hook shoke his head. “Have him. He’s yours.”

“You son of a bitch!” Will surged forward but two lost boys were quick to hold him back. “You promised me! You promised!”

An arrow flew and hit a pirate. Then all erupted into chaos. Nobody knew who shot the arrow, or if there even was one. Swords swung. And Will was quick to find a piece of wood to defend himself against ruthless Kayleigh, who was streaming with rage.

“You liar!” She swung her sword up, giving Will the small second of time to run up the deck and onto the steering post.

“If you would let me explain!” Will shouted at her, as they danced around the steering wheel.

Suddenly, a pirate came behind Will and grabbed his forearm. In one swift motion, Will swung his other fist back, socking his nose dead on. The pirate stumbled back, tripping over a barrel and down the steps.

Kayleigh lunged for his back, but Will spun back, wrapping his bare palm on the sharp edge of her sword. He gasped in pain, but pushed the sword back as far as he could. She pressed it into him, seething with rage.

“Yes,” Will gasped. “I’m a Lost Boy, but I didn’t lie to you! I just got here! I want to go home!”

“Lost Boys cannot be trusted!” She shouted at him.

Seeing his window, he kicked with one leg to knock her down, freeing his wounded palm. He stumbled back against the railing, his hand pulsing in pain.

Her sword swung again, but then Blake came in for the rescue, an arrow zipping through the air and pinning her blouse to the wood. She screamed in frustration, watching Blake hand Will a sword to hold in his other, not bleeding hand.

“You owe me, mate,” Blake said.

“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” Will replied.

Together, they fought their way through pirates, back to back. Blake protected Will as Will protected Blake until they made their way back to Pan. It didn’t take long for all the lost boys to recenter around one another, the pirates struggling to regain their advantage.

“Alright, boys!” Blake called.

All bodies tensed, all eyes locked on Pan. Just then, they were on the same beach Will escaped from.

Shock ripped through Will. As if he blinked on the ship in one moment, and the next they were standing on the sand. Nausea overcame him as he fell to his knees, clutching his aching stomach.

“You’ll get used to it.” Blake laughed, holding out a hand for Will. “Let’s go back to camp.”

“Not yet, Blake,” Pan ordered. Both locked eyes with him, then each other, uncertain. “I need a word with our newcomer. You head back to camp.”

Blake looked at Will worriedly, alarmed even. Something lingered behind it, a unspoken word of advice. Will gave him a reassuring smile, despite the neausea persistently resisting his effort. He watched the rest of the boys jog back into the depths of the forest, leaving him desperately sole with Pan.

Silence cast over them, a blanket of tension with the only sound being the gentle cawing of birds and washing of waves a few feet away. Pan stepped forward, looking down on the brunette.

“Does disobeying me make you feel good, Will?” Pan asked, his voice calm and soft.

“Yes,” Will answered sarcastically. “100%. Not to mention. Nobody said there were any limitations about leaving the island.”

“Oh,” Pan raised an understanding eyebrow, then he smiled. “Of course. Blake must have skipped over that. Allow me to clear up any confusion.”

Without a second thought, Pan grabbed Will’s face, fingers digging into his chin. The strength threw Will off, as if any tighter grip, Pan could break his jaw. He cried out in striking pain

 “The minute you step onto this island, my island, you are labeled nothing but a broken, lonely, lost boy. Bruised and burned from the world.”

Will’s hand wrapped around Pan’s unwilling grip, the distance between them ached with hot breath. No matter how hard he pulled away, the blonde’s grip tightened. Pan’s eyes, a sudden contrast from the softness they held, turned wide and wild with possessive fury. He drowned in that gaze.

“You are on my island.” Pan said through gritted teeth. “You are mine. You do not disobey my authority, and you do not go home.”

“Fuck you-” Will spat, and suddenly, his face met the sand as Pan cast him aside.

“You are pathetic.” Pan insulted. 

Will’s chest stung with such resonating insults. “That all you got for me?”

Pan’s voice rose with power and rage. “You are under my command. Under my control.”

 Will didn’t have a witty comment for that.

“Stand up.”

No response. Pan laughed, a dark and bitter as poison.

“I'm starting to believe you have a hearing issue. That, or you are so incredibly stubborn,” His hands gripped the back of Will’s hair, yanking his dark curls up so he stood on his feet. “Stand!” he shouted into his ear from behind him.

Will swung his hand to attempt to punch him, like he did the pirate, but Pan was quicker. His other hand grabbed Will’s fist and squeezed down on his knuckles. Will cried out in pain, knees buckling from underneath him.

Pan pulled his black hair from the nape of Will’s neck, forcing him to look at him with tearful, angry blue eyes.

“You hear me now?” Pan whispered, then casting himself back so Will could fall onto the hot sand once more. Pan left him there: bare, bruised, and alone. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry, but hot angry tears spilled despite his control. He looked up from the sand and out into that endless ocean horizon. A scream bubbled under his chin and ripped out of his throat, echoing through the trees of Neverland.

Chapter Text

Will woke up to the bright sunday light streaming through his shades. He turned his head to feel Claire sleeping soundly beside him. nothing on but her diaper. With the next minute before him, listened to the house. His sister, Addie on her phone below him, most likely still lying beside the, the youngest.

He carefully tugged himself away from Claire’s grip, sliding off the top bunk and onto the carpet floor. He took notice to his room, cleaner than expected. He could remember just how dirty it was last night, and how quickly he and his sister cleaned it when their stepfather came home from work. He was always gone before they left for school and unexpectantly came back late at night. They hardly saw him except on weekends. And here came Rob to tear open their bedroom door.

“Do you know where your mom is?” He said, his eyes trying to convey calmness, but his demeanor manic.

“I don’t know.” Will shrugged. “Probably working.”

“Working.” He shook his head. “Yeah, right. She hasn’t been here all night. What does she do all night?”

Addie chimed in. “She does deliveries.”

“Bullshit.” Rob snapped. “That’s bullshit. Where is she?”

“I don’t know-”

“Look.” Rob interrupted het, letting it go and turning his attention back to Will, who was reaching for a shirt. “Will, I need to go look for her. She’s probably at that gay guy’s house. What was his name?”

“Nate,” Will mumbled. “I think.”

“I’m going to go see where she is. Does she have her location on?”

“Usually, no,” Will answered again, pulling the shirt over his head.

“Can you make sure the house is in order before I get home?” Rob asked. “I need to trust you with this. Under no circumstance will you text your mother that I’m coming for her. Do you understand?” He paused for a moment. “Matter of fact, give me your phone.”

Will and Addie never bothered fighting with Rob about this. What could they possibly say? He paid all the bills, including their phone. And if they dared to speak up for themselves, they would meet an even angrier Robert. A Robert who Will wouldn’t put above hitting him.

“Here,” Will handed over his phone, which already had a cracked screen from the last time Rob got mad at him.

He took it with a satisfied smile. “I’ll be back. Take care of things, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Will smiled a half-smile, watching his stepfather hold out a fist for him to knuckle. Will returned the fist and pretended to laugh, watching as Rob left their bedroom door wide open.

They wouldn’t return until the very next morning.

---

It took Will longer than he would like to admit finding his way back to camp. He would learn later there was a path carved out from camp and to the beach. Upon his return, he held his face high, disregarding the looks passed around. All the lost boys gathered around the fire pit, some boys finished their breakfast as they waited for Pan to make, what Will was told was, his “daily speech.”

 Will sat in between Felix and Blake. Felix sat beside Pan, who was hunched over with his hands over his mouth, staring at the fire. Beside Blake, was his best friend, Sandesh. Beside Sandesh sat Devin who was goofing off with Jared, who seemed to be the most popular on the island. Will couldn’t blame them. He was extremely friendly and very good-looking. Typically, you get one or the other. Will made a mental note to not trust Jared completely until he proved he could do both. Jared sat in between Devin and Jah’ sir, who was just as focused on goofing off than finished their breakfast.

Will wasn’t hungry and he didn’t dare to ask the intimidating blonde skyscraper of a boy next to him if he could eat after the shit he pulled on the ship. Some part of him missed the feeling he felt there. Even if it was brief.

His eyes fell upon Blake’s food, who instantly noticed his gaze and passed him a few berries. This earned a small smile from Will. He hasn’t spoken to him since the ship but he supposed he wasn’t too angry with him.

“Don’t worry,” Blake said to him softly. “Sandesh pulled the same shit you did. But he didn’t have the balls to climb into enemy territory.”

Sandesh smacked him over the head and stole a grape from his plate. The comment made him feel a little better, even if reminded him where he was.

Right, Will thought, Pirates. Lost boys. Fairy Dust. He hunched over, similar to Pan, and scrunched his eyes with his eyes and ran them back through his pounding head. Why did he remember his home? Why don’t they? Is this the spell they were under? Was he dreaming?

Suddenly, he heard a crunch and the boys went quiet. He lifted his head and saw Pan tower over them all, inching closer to the firepit with a sinister smile on his face.

“How about a game?”

---

Will watched the raindrops from a few hours ago fall across the windshield as the smell of cigarette smoke made its way across the car and into his lungs. He looked over at his mother, who’s on her phone with one hand out the car window, holding a cigarette.

“Hey, mom?” He said, watching her look up at the red light that has yet to change.

“Yeah?” She replied.

Will looked back at the cigarette half-smoked out the window. “Can I?”

She looks at him briefly with surprise before looking past him. After all, how could a cigarette be different than weed? It was, but Will hoped she wouldn’t think too much of it. She passed him the cigarette over the middle seat to him. He took it between his two fingers and rolled down his passenger side window and quickly took a hit.

The car started up again and rolled past the green light. They were on their way to the gas station for a pack and probably a snack for Will. He always got a suicide slurpee, which besides the name his mother constantly degraded, meant that he got every flavor combined in one big cup.

As they pulled into the station, he spotted a car parallel to them, three or four boys outside laughing and smoking, one with his car door open, leaning on it.

He frowned and took another hit of smoke before passing it back. “Yknow, me and my friends have a spot we smoke at. It’s just around the back of the school.”

“You don’t bring that shit with you to school,” She asked. “Do you?”

“No,” he lied. “I’m not stupid. You know how much trouble I could get into holding it?”

“Just don’t be stupid when you're doing that.” His mother shook her. “When my dad was your age, they had smoking areas in school.”

“I know.” Will agreed, looking back out the window. “Want me to get it?’ He referred to the gas pump.

“Yeah,” She said, handing him her card. “Here. And a pack of 72’s.”

“I gotcha.” Will assured, leaping out of the car with many dents in it from the countless times she had fallen asleep behind the wheel.

As he slammed the door behind him, he carefully held up the pump and shucked it into the car. The air was freezing that night, biting at his hands even after he stuffed them back into his coat pocket.

“Yooo!” One of the boys from before called out, clearly intoxicated. “How’s your night going, man?”

Will thought to ignore him but noticed the number hadn’t even reached 10 dollars yet. He forced a smile. “Pretty good.”

“You tryna have a better one?” His friend asked while the others giggled to themselves.

It was then he decided to pretend he hadn’t heard them, watching carefully as the dollar amount reached 8.

“Come on,” The same guy purred, slowly approaching him, around the pump pillar.

“What?” He asked, acting dumb. He prayed his mother could see him, but knowing her, she was asleep or on her phone. Finally, it reached 10 dollars. He shoved it out of the car and tossed it back into the machine.

“I’m good. I gotta head back home.”

Perhaps one of the boys saw someone exiting the gas station store and backed off. Will didn’t know with his back turned. “Whatever man. Your loss.”

Will waited until they pulled away before exiting the car again.

---

“Maybe he’s over here.”

Will’s feet ached against the splintered bark. Blisters and bruises along his limbs from when he tried to climb a tree to hide from the boys. Whoever won this game of Hide and Seek would be excused from training, and from what the boys explained, it was one of the worst parts of the day.

“Nah man, I checked over there. Let’s head north.” Jah’sir said, standing below him.

Jah was one of the few that was found first due to his enormous height, there was no place to really hide. Will was surprised at how long he had hidden up in the pine tree without getting caught. Watching the boys run in his opposite direction, he could let out the breath he held in.

The silence didn’t last as a snap of a branch altered Will below him. He sucked himself deeper against the tree trunk, smothering his feet together, no matter how they throbbed in pain. He hopped silently that he would slip and fall so he couldn’t be blamed for giving up.

Something kept him from giving up.

He watched the leaves ruffle under him as a familiar chestnut blonde stood below him. He was looking all around but above him. Kneeling to the ground, he watched Pan palm the dirt and close his eyes, bowing his head down. Even as he held own breath, he could hear Pan’s.

Will leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, not taking his eyes off of Pan.

One Friday morning, he woke up late for school. He had told his sister to make sure he got up because he couldn’t keep missing school. Later, she would explain how in his sleep deprived state in the early morning, told her to just leave without him. He could recall the darkness of his closet as he waited out the hours, shutting his eyes and holding his breath when he heard his mother come into his room.

He couldn’t see in front of him, and his back and legs cramped as they leaned against the shoes and clothes. He shifted uncomfortably around him for hours in the darkness until he heard his mother leave. Even after she left for work, he waited a good 10 minutes until he was sure she wouldn’t come back inside to look for something she ultimately forgot.

A sigh of relief came to him when the clock on his phone hit 3:15.

 He opened his eyes to be met back with the trees of Neverland.

He studied the way he slowly from the ground and looked around again, this time in one even direction. With one foot in front of the other, he started to walk away.

Will let his guard down and immediately slipped, swiftly catching himself with another tree branch. He watched as Pan’s head snapped toward his tree as a piece of bark fell onto the dry dirt.

Will cursed at himself as his heart picked up. The leaves crunched under Pan’s boots as he slowly approached the tree.

“Alright Will, come down here.” He said, cranking his neck up to look at him up in the tree.

“Gotta tag me,” Will smirked playfully, accepting his defeat slightly. Despite the beatdown he received earlier, he refused to let Pan think he had some authority over him.

Pan huffs out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. This was in the rules he displayed earlier, although he hoped Will would give up by now. That along with the fact Pan couldn’t use his power as an unfair advantage against the boys. Will didn’t feel like climbing a tree- but whatever it took for him to prove this boy wrong, he would do.

Pan jumped slightly to grip a thick branch and began climbing, almost gracefully up a tree. It looked like such a simple climb when Pan did it, as compared to Will’s scrambling higher up the Pine.

Pan’s feet and strong hands found the branches like muscle memory as if he had climbed the same tree a thousand times before. Will scrambled around the trunk with his branches getting thinner and thinner, shorter and shorter. The ground below him getting further away. He climbed slower with much awkward intention. He looked around, witnessing no other branch for him to climb without it snapping below him.

Pan was hot on his trail, so Will did the only thing he knew how to do. He escaped. Pivoting around the trunk of the tree, the let himself fall down each branch, catching himself occasionally with clumsy grace. Practically falling out of the tree, he collapsed onto the rough ground with a hard crash. His ears rang, his body disoriented. But his stubbornness pushed him on. Once he got to his feet, he heard Pan groan in impatience.

He ran with everything in him. His feet blistered under the leaves and dirt and practically bled under him. He missed the boots and cursed himself for not putting them off before leaving the ship. Sharp, stinging, and throbbing pain made his way up his leg until his feet landed on hard rock. He realized he had made it to a cliff’s edge and was standing a yard away from a 40ft drop into what looked like a dark forest with a dark fog surrounding its trees.

His stomach sank at his close encounter with death. A second longer of sprinting and he would have stumbled off the cliff.

He heard Pan behind him walk up. He sighed in defeat and held up his hands. “Alright, you got me.”

Pan walked up to him. Without much thought, Will dared step back against the cliff’s edge. A firm hand found its way to Will’s animal skin shoulder with a thud. He had tagged him.

“Head back to camp,” Pan ordered.

Will rolled his eyes and lifted his foot to step away from the cliff. The rock abruptly cracked and fell quickly off the ledge, taking Will with it. With a sudden scream, Will reached out to grab the hand that left his shoulder.

Chapter Text

After school, Will often spent his time in his room when he wasn’t taking care of his baby sisters. Sometimes his mother would be home, but on this thankful occasion, she wasn’t.

The clock hit 5 pm on Will's computer. Clicking the keyboard in a trace, he was writing. Writing felt like an escape for him. He often dreamt of a world where he spent his time instead of the one he lived in now. He was often surrounded by beautiful people who all loved him and cared for him like he was the center of their attention. Sure, it was a bit narcissistic, but it was what he craved when the whole world seemed to cast him aside as something unimportant.

When he did feel important, it was in moments where his mother would praise him for taking care of her children. Where Robert thanked him for stepping up to the plate and helping out the family. Even often, they made him feel like that was the bare minimum. That it was his job, and he should not get any recognition for raising their children.

His wrists ached as he sat back, clicking around on his phone, watching a few messages from his girlfriend. They were fighting again over something stupid. Stupid in Will’s eyes of course and the end of the world for her. A few months ago, around Halloween, William took a selfie with his girl best friend in the bathroom. And in one of the photos, Will’s hand was carefully and intimately dropped on her waist.

It was hard to cast it aside since Will was not one for physical affection. He only enjoyed the matter with very close friends and intimate partners. Even when he had told Ally, his girlfriend, she would twist it and make Will out to be the bad guy. Some part of him thought the same. He was flawed. A liar and a cheat. He supposed they should have discussed these boundaries early on in their relationship but he was never one for healthy communication.

When things seemed to cool down in their conversation, Will raised himself out of the chair. He could hear Claire and Ira playing downstairs in the living room as he left his room. His bedroom door was directly next to the railing, and as he made his way down, he saw Ira and Claire dancing to some music. Addie sat on her phone on the couch, watching them.

“When’s mom coming home?” Will asked.

Addie shrugged. “I dunno. You know if I ask, she’s gonna get all bitchy.”

Will huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah… is Clayton back yet?”

“At Paul’s.” Addie blew off.

Will nodded. “Guess it’s just us for dinner.” He turned and made his way into the kitchen. “What do the girls want?”

Claire came running into the kitchen. “Chicken nugget fries!” She babbled.

Will smiled, picking her up and setting her down on the counter. “You want chicken nuggets? How about… broccoli soup?” Claire made a disgusted face that made Will cackle with laughter “Alright, alright. I’ll warm up some pizza rolls. How does that sound?”

“Yeah!” She shouted, hands in the air.

Looking inside the freezer, William quickly noticed zero packets of pizza rolls. Matter of fact, hardly any food in the freezer at all except a frozen pizza that’s been in there for at least a few months.

“How do you feel about pizza?” He asked, shutting it. “Basically, the same thing as Pizza Rolls.”

---

The rock fell off the cliff and cascaded down into the foggy forest, landing with a loud crash and blast.

Will’s eyes shut as he felt gravity pull him down the cliff. Until it didn’t. With a strong ripping sound, Will’s eyes blazed open in shock.

Pan held him by his wrist at a slim 45-degree angle over the cliff. He held the same fearful expression on his face. It took little strength from Pan to pull Will back onto the cliff side. He landed on his side, heaving breaths against the bone-dry ground. Will welcomed the unevenness and distance from the edge. Pan, however, didn’t move. He stood still as a statue, looking out at the cliffside horizon.

His silence was punctuated by the rustle of the forest behind them. The heavy breathing by Will. Then, Pan turned. Gone was the fear, replaced with a unsettling calmness and assurance.

“Alright,” Pan said. “Get back to camp.”

“Are you kidding?!” Will exclaimed, bringing himself back to his feet. “I almost died!”

“Back…” Pan said slowly. “…to camp.”

Will scoffs and turns away from him, walking toward the forests edge. But before he could cross the veil, he whipped around to give Pan one last piece of his mind.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking-”

But Pan was gone. Like he wasn’t there at all.

Will was restless, dizzy, bruised, still recovering from nearly falling to his death, ears ringing persistently, feet bleeding into the dusty ground floor. Another scream bubbled under his chin, but he set it aside. Turning back toward the forest.

He wondered if all boys had to suffer this way. He missed his shoes.

As he approached the circle of boys, he counted them mentally in his head, only to shortly realize he was the last boy to be found. Blake greets him with a cheer and a firm shake.

“Looks who’s skipping out on us already!” Blake laughed. “Took ages for Pan to find you!”

Will tightens his lips as he looks back at the boys. Sandesh rose and said: “He went easy on him.”

“Nah,” Jared said. “Pan doesn’t go easy on us.”

“He’s new.” Blake excused, leading Will to sit in between him and Devin. “Where were you hiding anyways?” Blake asks.

Will shrugged. “In a tree.”

 This made Sandesh snicker and Felix’s eyes raised in surprise.

Blake shrugs. “Maybe he did go easy on you.”

Pan arrived shortly after Will as he directed the boys through their training. Will took this chance to explore the campsite. When Pan left with the boys, he looked above the pathway and took notice to wooden signs, pointing in different directions with names carved deeply into them. The one pointing down the path Pan took the boys was marked Training Grounds. There was a path a few yards west of that, labeled Beach. Then there were Hunting Grounds, Skull Rock, Mermaid Lagoon, and The Shadow Cliffs.

He made a mental note to avoid the cliffs with their unsteady ground. Now the mermaid lagoon he was interested in. Scanning around the empty campsite he spotted a little notebook lying next to the log. He kneels and brushes his fingers across the title-less leather book. As he plucked it off the barked ground, he heard a branch snap from behind him.

Devin, out of breath, ran all the way from the training grounds up to Will and the notebook.

“Hey,” He smiled. “You found it.” He held out a hand, expecting Will to hand it over.

Will raised it in question. “This yours?”

Devin looked at him anxiously. “Yeah. Can you…?”

Will tossed it to him, furrowing his eyebrows. “A book?”

“A journal.” Devin shrugged. “I think a lot.”

“Don’t we just,” Will mumbled. “Well, have fun fighting. Or whatever you do.”

“We shoot.”

“Guns?” Will teases.

“Bow and arrow.” Devin chuckled. “I’m no good at it. I think a gun would be easier.”

Will nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah…”

There was an awkward silence cast between them. Will waited for him to walk away, or even jog back to the grounds. Devin stayed put. Will watched his nervous gaze flash to Pan’s large treehouse and then back to him. His bright blue eyes looked greyer in the sunlight.

“Lucky you.” Devin decided on, brushing his brown bangs back. “Missing out on training.”

“Lucky me,” Will said awkwardly, watching Devin nod nervously and turn back toward the path.

 Odd, Will thought to himself.

Devin stopped abruptly and turned on his heel back to Will. “You can… uhm- come watch if you want.”

Will scrunched his eyebrows together, pausing to say something but ultimately deciding to answer, “Sure.”

Devin smiled at him and gestured for Will to follow him down the path.

🟈🟈🟈

He cut through the neighborhood and made his way across the street, knocking on the door. Almost immediately he got a text from Ally.

‘ its open ’

Entering the one-story home, he was greeted with her mother’s easter decoration paired with signature wooden signs like Live and Laugh and Faith. He took no note and briefly fixed his hair in the mirror outside her room. Entering, he was pleased to see Ally, sitting on her bed. She smiled at him. He was not pleased to see Brinn and Eli, Ally’s two other stoner friends. Eli was her best friend and Brinn was just as close to Ally as Will was to Eli.

Will waved to them and joined all of them on the bed. Brinn was standing near the dresser, emptying her ‘drug bag’ which was just a fanny pack full of carts and vapes and even the occasional acid tab.

Brinn always had the good stuff, hence why she was invited more often than not. Will wasted no time and caught the cart that Eli tossed his way.

It took a significant amount of air to suck through the wax, and when he did, the hot air made him cough and heave.

“Easy, there.” Ally teased.

“I got it.” He answers between breaths.

The night faded as did Will. Ally’s small bed was propped up against the corner of her room. Eli sat on the pillows, while Brin took the corner and Ally and Will laid on the end with the pipe and lighter.

Will held up the pipe and the lighter as he burned the chief. As she lifted her head off, she almost immediately slumped onto the wall. Will smiled and smoked what was left burning.

“Y’all here back from that plug?” Eli asked. Eli was the shortest out of all of them. With his chubby body and dark complexion. Nobody could tell he was trans except the people who had been with him throughout his life.

“Nah,” Will answered. “But I got 15 in my pocket. We could hit up the chevron down the street.”

“How did you get 15? I thought you spent that all downtown.” Brinn asked. Brinn had bright red hair cut short by her shoulders. A small septum piercing and bright blue eyes.

Will shrugged. “My mom accused me of stealing her cigarettes, so I stole her ten and five before I left.”

“Did you?” Eli asked.

Will took a hit of his vape and held it in, pausing to say. “Of course, I did.” And then blew it out.

Brinn chuckled and watched as Ally took the vape out of Will’s hand and took a small hit of it. The room smelled like weed and strawberry ice. Will turned to Ally, who smiled at him sweetly, her long blonde hair falling over her face. Through the months they have been dating, she has been getting increasingly thinner. It was common knowledge between Eli, Brinn, and Will that she was battling an eating disorder, but Will didn’t think there was much he could do to help her. He couldn’t even help himself.

Will smiled back.

🟈🟈🟈

The training grounds were much like a separate campsite divided into the many activities one can do. Upon entering after Devin, Will was greeted with an arrow flying past his ear and hitting a tree beside him.

He flew to the side and shouted, “What the hell?!” Turning to catch the culprit, he saw Blake.

“Oh-” he smiled. “Hey, Will! I thought you weren’t training.”

Will turned around and gripped the arrow on the tree. “I’m not.” He pulled it, only to realize he needed more force than expected. The arrow was deep inside the tree. How much power did Blake use to shoot this? “I’m just- Jesus, this is really in there…”

Blake approached him and laughed at his struggle, gently setting a hand over his on the arrow. “Let me.” And with liminal effort, ripped it out of the thick bark.

Will’s eyes widened in shock, but he played it off. “Archery, huh?”

“Yeah.” Blake smiled. “You know how?” Will shook his head. “Well, you’ll learn. It’s easy, watch.”

Blake stepped back to his marking place and picked out an arrow from the pack strapped on his back. Will cleared the way and quickly went quiet as he watched Blake nock the arrow into place and with expert precision, raised the bow in an archer’s position. His eyes narrowed with focus as he puffed his chest, taking in a deep concentrated breath. His raven hair dropped slightly over his eyes and Will felt a slightly unsettling feeling in his stomach when he admired the boy’s toned back.

SNAP.

Blake let go of the arrow, the point hitting the same exact place Will had attempted to rip it out before.

Blake lowered his bow and shrugged. “It takes practice.” Will watched as Blake approached him. “Here let me show you.”

Will took that as an invitation to take his bow out of his hand. Blake started again, “Every lost boy gets their own. It’s a symbol of loyalty to Pan and maturing to the next level. Only a few boys have their own.” Will admired Blake's bow and arrow. It had a thin blue string wrapped tightly around the sting nock, with thick runes carved into the belly side of the body. It was carved with expertise and incredibly enchanting to look at.

Blake looked up and gestured at the blonde sitting and chipping away and an obsidian knife. “There’s Felix, obviously.”

Blake turned to the boy a few yards ahead of him. “Jared,”

Jared’s bow was a thick spruce with sharp spikes carved around the body. He was about to shoot his arrow, and when he did, hit a few inches from the center.

Blake turned back to Will. “And then me.”

Will turned back to the bow in his hand. Such power this stupid piece of wood held. “When does a boy get one?”

Blake helped Will nock an arrow in. “Whenever Pan’s feels fit. Or when they have beaten one of the other boys with one and shown themselves worthy.”

Will struggled to hold the bow up and keep it in place. Blake kept shifting his body around, analyzing his form and modifying it. “Keep your back straight. Don’t slouch.” So, Will obeyed. A hand abruptly smacked his abdomen. “Chest out.” And then to his chest. “No- like this.”

Will’s eyes flickered to Blake when his hand didn’t move. It moved down to his abdomen. “Focus on the target.”

“Sorry,” Will whispered, his gaze locked into the tree ahead of him.

“Deep breath in through the chest.” Blake watched him. “Chest, Will. Yes, good.”

Will gently blew it out and caught the next breath in his throat when he felt Blake’s chest to his back. “Hips over your feet. Like that.”

“It’s hard to concentrate on shooting when you keep moving me-”

“Just like that!” Blake said, backing away. “Don’t move. Deep breath in…” Will obeyed, staying still as a doe. “Now.”

Will let go of the arrow, flinching at the speed. The arrow hit the side of the tree and knocked itself in between two pieces of bark.

“Boom!” Will shouted, raising Blake’s bow up. “Get shit on!” Blake laughed, grabbing his bow back.

“Looks like you have a good teacher.” A voice called from behind Will.

Blake's once gleeful smile dropped in an instant with his eyes going wide. “Pan.”

Will turned around, eyes wide like he had been caught doing something inappropriate. His surprised gaze was only met with Pan’s signature smirk, although something was threading around it, hiding deep within it. Ulterior motive, perhaps. It only took a moment for Will to notice a few things different about how Pan held himself. He was more relaxed, jaw unclenched, and a saccharine glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t see you.” Blake stepped forward ahead of Will, gripping his bow in his hand.

“While I appreciate your teaching qualities, Blake,” Pan commented, knowingly shrugging his shoulder. His eyes darted to Will. “I think we should let Will achieve his own bow before trying out…” Back to Blake, this time, a flicker of disdain. “...yours.”

“Yes,” Blake immediately replied. “My mistake.”

Will’s stomach ached, wondering how long Pan was standing there. Had he seen how close Blake was to him? Not that it mattered. He studied Blake for a minute. He looked harder than he was a second ago. And when Will looked back at Pan, he noticed a shadow of a look. Back to Blake, he watched him nod sadly, but not dropping his soldier’s demeanor.

“I’ll see you at dinner?” Blake turned, speaking softly to Will.

Will smiled softly and nodded, only to side-glare Pan.

Chapter Text

Will sat in his room in the dark, staring blankly at the screen with one single paragraph ending in,

‘I’m sorry but I’ll always be here for you as a friend.’

Will didn’t let his tears fall, only his head when it hit the pillow. He closed his eyes, and he pictured the night when he and Ally were together for the first time. When he first lost his virginity.

She was soft and insecure about her body, always hiding away under her, her breaths captured over his lips. He was shaking terribly, his arms trembling as he tried to keep himself upright over her. Gripping the headboard, he grabbed her cheek and kissed her. Kissing Ally felt like kissing someone who had never kissed before. She thought deep down she didn’t deserve his kisses. The ones on her lips, down her neck, and over her bare chest she tried to hide away.

Will’s breath trembled over the canyon between her breasts, not sure if he was scared or just incredibly overwhelmed. Her hand on his shoulder ached as he secretly wished it would move into his hair. Give him anything, any kind of noise, a tremble of breath, a sharp grip, anything to tell him he was doing a good job. That she was enjoying herself.

Will let out a sharp moan when he entered her, clenching his eyes shut as his knuckles grew white in his grip. There it was, the noise he craved. Her grip tightened around his neck, sending tingles up his spine.

It was awkward for a few minutes, their thrusts not meeting together at once. It took a minute to get the right rhythm, but once they did, it was magic. Her legs were hot and sweaty when skin slapped skin. Her voice pitched up in tone and suddenly, her hand left his shoulder and then gripped the pillow below her head.

Will was huffing every breath, daring to open his eyes to the art below him. Ally opened her eyes and mouthed the words.

“Don’t stop.”

Will opened his eyes and suddenly he was back in his room. Alone. He turned back to his phone and read the text message.

‘You’re only fucking with my feelings because you don’t know your own. You always told me I deserve better, and now so do you. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I don’t want to get back together again. I miss who I thought you were. And sometimes I’m miserable without you. I’m sorry but I’ll always be here for you as a friend.’

Will felt tears streaming down his face, fighting back his sobs into his pillow.

“Are you okay?” Addie asked from the bottom bunk.

Will silently wished he wouldn’t wake up. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She asked.

Will wiped his tears and shoved his phone back into his pillow. “Nah, I’m okay.” He said, his voice breaking slightly.

🟈🟈🟈

The night came swifter than expected, and it was the last thing Will expected to experience.

The fire roared with its flames, the smog lifting into the dark air and into the great big trees. The world around Will smelled like charcoal and pine. Boys surrounded the fire and celebrated the appearance of the new boy. Some sat on logs further away, passing pipes and small bottles of what looked like freshly brewed alcohol. The others danced around the fire pit, jumping up and down with their capes and animal skins flying in the wind. Pan sat on a log a few feet away from the fire, watching the boys celebrate with a smile on his face Will could see across the great fire.

Blake sat next to Sandesh, who sat next to Will. The two of them fought around, smacking each other drunkenly and tackling the other to the ground. Will found this amusing for a moment, noticing the difference between the celebration on the pirate ship and the celebration in the forest.

The music played was not a violin, but drums and flutes made of branches and leather. It was almost native, the way these boys painted their faces and howled at the sky. Will felt so terribly out of place.

That was until he heard the flute. The same flute he heard the night before. He lifted his eyes to witness Pan, flute in hand, playing the slow melody. It enchanted will with the overwhelming urge to get up and dance with the boys. But he fought it, staying put on the log.

He looked around, noticing no one else was dancing. They all sat down to finish their supper. Blake turned away from Sandesh, who dropped a knife to the ground and eyed Will, whose eyes were focused on Pan’s playing.

“Yeah, no one can hear it either.” Blake assumed.

“No-” Will put a hand on his shoulder. “I hear it.”

Blake's eyes widen. “You do?” He half whispered.

Pan’s gaze left the fire and landed on Blake and Will. When his eyes caught Will, he stopped playing. He sat up with a confused expression, deep in thought, but not looking away.

“Can you not hear it?” Will asked Blake, not looking away from Pan.

Blake looked out at Pan. “You're the only boy who can…” Blake stood up, catching the attention of all the boys. “Do you know what this means?”

Jared furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Blake smiled gleefully and eyed Pan, who nodded with a smile. The black-haired boy took Will’s wrist and held it up in the sky, forcing him to stand next to him.

“Neverland is saved!” Blake announced.

Will looked around, shocked. The boys howled louder than before, some shouting “Oh my god!” And some, “Wait, it’s him?!” Will tore his hand away and looked around in a circle. All the boys smiled and laughed in euphoria like he just saved their lives. And when his eyes landed on Pan, he froze.

Pan looked at him, chin up in pride, an evil smirk on his face. Rising from his seat, he brushed off his pants and looked around, all eyes on him. “Easy now, Blake.”

Blake’s look faltered. “But-” he said. “You said it yourself that whoever could hear the magic pipes-”

Pan walked around as he spoke, putting a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “And I was right. However, I did also say the boy who could hear them had tremendous power. Do you think Will could really have that? He’s only been on this island for a few days…”

Blake thought for a moment, and then stepped back, beside Will. “I do.”

Will looked at Pan, then back at Blake. “Can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on?”

Blake turned to him, back to Pan. “You have the heart of the truest believer!”

“The what?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed.

"The heart of the-"

"No, I heard you." Will clarified.

“You are going to save the island." Blake explained. "It’s prophecy!”

Will almost laughed in his face. “Why? Because I heard some old pipes?” He said, chuckling nervously. He lowered his voice. “Blake, maybe he’s right. I don’t think-”

Pan interrupted him. “I mean if you don’t think you can go through the trials…” He gave Will a challenging smile.

Will’s previous words rotted in his mouth as he felt a snarl bubbling up under his chin. A familiar voice echoed through his head and sounded something like, “Not strong enough.”

Will shoved Blake back and stepped toward Pan. “Fuck that. I’m stronger than I look.”

Pan raised an eyebrow and bit back laughter, turning away. “If you think so William-”

Will eyed the same knife Sandesh had dropped earlier and took hold of it. Without a second thought, and in a fit of anger, threw it directly at Pan. Abruptly as if Pan could feel the wind the knife cut, turned, and gripped the knife handle before it could plunge itself deep into his chest. Boys cheered around them, some ogled at Will’s bravery, but Pan and Will shared the same look. Surprise.

Pan smiled and casts the knife away. “You can train with Jared in the morning.” And exited for his cabin shortly after that, leaving the boys to put out the fire.

When Will opened his tree house door, he gazed at the moonlight coming in through his great big window over his bed. His sheets were thick and heavy, his pillow full of feathers, and the wood below his bare feet ached a little less than last night. When he crossed the window, he gazed out of it, looking down at Jah’sir and Jared taking out the ash from the fireplace.

Soft candlelight lamps and the moon lighted up the camp. He could feel his heart start to ache with the lack of food. This would be his 2nd day without a bite of food, and he would rather die than live without his sisters. His family. Being without them already felt like starving. A constant ache for something that never shows up.

🟈🟈🟈

Pan’s boots scrunch under the leaves and leave murky footprints when they reach Will’s bedroom. He doesn’t need to knock, inviting himself in. He lurks over Will’s sleeping body, watching the cold moonlight shine on his cheek and soft eyelids. How can this be a warrior? Will stirred in his sleep but Pan doesn’t move. He is frozen in place as if he is already a part of the room, a shadow looming over him.

He is having a nightmare, Pan analyzes, watching his eyebrows furrow with scorn. He is disgusted at the sight, wondering why and how he could remember his past life. He determines it may have something to do with him having the heart of the truest believer.

A second shadow appears looming over Pan’s shoulder.

“Why did you bring him to me?” Pan asks the shadow. “He is nothing but a fragile shell of the boy you promised me.”

“He will grow.” The shadow whispered.

“He shouldn’t.” Pan almost snarls, holding back his rage. “He is nothing special. He should behave and forget like they all did. And yet he disrupts the perfect balance I carved out for me here. I carved out of all of us.”

“He isn’t meant to fit in.” The shadow answers. “He can’t.”

Pan’s chin raises and turns over his shoulder. “And if he dies?”

The shadow walks back to the window. “It is your job to make sure he still breathes.”

Pan’s jaw clenches as he lets out a hard breath. He watches Will’s face pout and cry. Pan raised his hand and waved it over his forehead, banishing his bad dreams. It was pathetic to watch.

“It is your job to make him stay.” The shadow concludes.

Chapter Text

I found this book under the basin. I think someone was hiding it. I figured I should keep track of the days I’m here. What day is this? 5? 6?

Anyway, training with Jared is a lot more fun than I thought. I asked him how long he’s been here, and he replied,

“I’m not sure. I got here before Blake though.”

Some part of me wants to ask what year he thinks it is, but I think it’s better off we stick to thinking he know what a telephone is. Speaking of telephones, I miss mine. I miss my friends. I miss music that's does not drum and sticks on the ground

I miss my sisters and debate almost every day to go back to the Pirates. Maybe if I beg them, they won’t skin me alive.

“Once the shadow brings you here, if your feet touch Pan’s camp, your officially one of his boys and you can never leave.”

Was Hook a lost boy once that escaped? What about Kayleigh?

Jared seems to like it here, although it looks like all the lost boys are walking on eggshells around Pan, which is baffling to me because he is just a boy. A boy with magical powers, I suppose. This whole place is new to me, and the fact that he has the ability to teleport us is a bit baffling. Perhaps he could fly if he had pixie dust like the ship could. Why doesn’t he fly? He flies all the time in the storybooks.

—

“Will, how can this get worse” Jared said. “Let it go.”

Jared and Will were by the training grounds, a few yards away from the main camp. Jared had blocked Will’s sword attacks for the 27th time and watched as Will’s heaving body stumbled to his feet.

“Nah, it will.” Will brushed off, wiping his lip. “Give me a minute.”

Jared put his hands on his shoulders. “Enough. Let’s head back to camp.”

Will huffed in frustration but quickly moved with Jared out of the grounds. The pathways from each destination around the island had scenery out of a fairytale. The trees were as tall as skyscrapers in New York, draping their leaves over them. The branches held like a canopy, shielding Will and Jared from the blazing sun. The rest of the first was lit up by fireflies blinking in the dusk and soft animal sounds echoing through the trees. The pathway itself was dug out to see the roots of the trees around them, stones leading the way.

Will’s feet have gotten stronger, but still they ached with every step. Will had learned to ignore it. It seemed everybody's feet was permanently stained with dirt

“Why does Pan wear boots and we don’t?” Will dared to ask.

“I think it’s a power thing.” Jared shrugged, brushing past some plants. “Or like a trial that you're tough enough to be a lost boy.”

Will rolled his eyes. “What’s with this guy and trials? Isn’t this supposed to be paradise? We're not supposed to fight for our lives to survive.”

“Fighting for our lives is the cost of freedom, Will,” Jared said wisely. “You want freedom, but you still expect someone to be in your corner.”

“Trust me,” Will scoffed. “I never had anyone in mine.”

Jared stopped abruptly and turned his head. It looked like he wanted to ask something but decided against it.

“Say it.” Will ordered.

Jared thinned his lips before saying, “What was your life like?”

Will, startled by the question, moved past Jared and followed the pathway ahead of him.

“If it was so bad, why do you want to go back? Could this be worse than your family?”

It was Will’s turn to turn around. “Don’t.” He spoke. “You know nothing about my life or my family. Don't you ever compare them to this place.” He paused. Quickly collecting himself. What could possibly be better than being with family?”

Jared stared off, taken aback. “I’m sorry I overstepped.”

“Don’t be.” Will shrugged it off. “I asked you to say it, didn’t I?”

The rest of the trip was quiet. Once they arrived at the main base, Pan was nowhere to be found. Although that never meant he wasn’t lurking. Most of the boys sat around the fire talking amongst themselves, and some even waved Jared and Will over.

Sandesh quickly spoke up. “It’s too early in the morning for you to be so cheerful, Jared.”

“It’s almost sundown!” Devin exclaimed.

“You heard me.” Sandesh yawned.

Blake chuckled as his eyes landed on Will across the dim firelight. “How did training go?”

“He got his ass kicked.” Jared stood up and went to grab the pitcher of water and took a sip.

“Some savior you are,” Sandesh mumbled, earning a shove from Blake.

“Sandesh!” The Spanish boy shouted. “Don’t be mean.”

Will smiled as Jared handed him the pitcher. “Nah, don’t worry, Blake.” He reassured. “One of us knows where a hot spring is, and the other smells like shit.”

Boys cackled with laughter, but Jah spoke up, “Where? We’ve looked everywhere!”

Felix, who was sitting next to Jared, quickly shut this down. “We are not going out into the woods. It’s getting dark.”

“Oh, come on!’ Will groaned.

“He’s right, Will.” Jared took the pitcher from him and sat down on the log. “Pan would skin us.”

Will stood in front of Jared. “Weren’t you just saying how much freedom we had?”

Jared looked at Will, then Felix, then back at Will. “If Pan finds us, it’s on you.”

Will and a few other boys cheered. Felix, on the other hand, agreed to stay behind and get some rest. Blake said to Will, “That’s his way of telling us he doesn’t agree with us, but he’s not gonna snitch.”

“He’s not?” Will asked.

“We’ve done worse.” Blake shrugged.

Sandesh came behind them on the path and put both arms around Will’s and Blake’s shoulders.

 “Hell yeah!” He exclaimed. “Like one time we swam naked in the ocean in the middle of the night. When we got back, Pan was waiting for us. We were so fucked.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Will commented. “Did he say anything?”

Blake shoved Sandesh off of him. “He was more worried about us drowning by the mermaids.”

“What?”

“Mermaids-”

“No, I heard you.”

“Do you know where we are going?” Sandesh whined.

“I know where I’m going. I’m just a little lost.” Will answered, shoving his way past branches.

“That’s extremely counterproductive.” Jared groaned. “Felix said we should be back soon; it will be sunrise soon!”

“You guys are such babies,” Will mumbled. “Oh- Wait! I recognize that rock!”

Devin leaned on a tree in exhaustion. “You also recognized a tree and a berry bush. I'm sure this one is different.” He said with a sarcastic smile. His blue eyes flickered for a moment to the right, a few yards behind the tree he was leaning on. A beautiful cliffside with the moon shining down against gemstones, penetrating the stone. The rock shone and twinkled with neon vibrance.

“Guys,” Devin mumbled.

“Will, just say you're lost, man.” Jah’sir pleaded. “I’m tired.”

“Guys,” Devin said louder, leaning off the tree, catching the attention of the boys. He pointed down the path leading to the cliffside. “I found it.”

Inside the vast cave, it seemed like a giant geode with a giant pool bubbling with heat. Boys cheered and howled with joy, tearing off their clothes and parkouring their way into the water.

The water was a bright teal and when splashed, made a cool-white foam. The first to jump in was Sandesh, fully nude as expected. Blake and Will watched Jared dive in next. He wouldn’t have known it, but he had excellent form. Will speculated he was a diver in his past life.

Past life. Is that what he’s calling it now? Has he truly given up hope for escape?

“Hey,” Blake shoulder checked Will, catching his attention. Will looked at him and hoped he didn’t look too sad. Blake was shirtless, undressing his trousers. “What’s that?”

Will looked behind him, where Blake’s eyes met. He was only met with crystals and rock. “I don’t see anything.”

Abruptly, when he turned, Blake, now fully nude like the rest of them, shoved Will into the water. Will’s body hit the water with a hard splash; the heated water warmed his aching muscles almost instantly. He opened his eyes, still underwater, watching how the bright pink, green, and even some blue crystals shone and made the water glow with multicolored light. Blake jumped in after him, ruining the perfectly good blue water with white foam from the impact.

Will swam up quickly and tackled Blake under the water. Their bodies wrestled with each other under the 13-foot-deep pool until they both fought up to the surface for air. Gasping for breath, Will watched the other boys enjoying themselves, watching Devin whip his long brown hair around, sprinkling everyone like a wet dog. Sandesh splashes him, which resulted in Jared swimming under Devin for him to get on his shoulders. With the upper hand, Devin kept fighting with Sandesh until all three of them were underwater again.

Jah’sir took it upon himself to leap into the water, causing an abruptly loud crash, waves rippling across Will’s contoured chest. Will wiped his face and smiled, watching Blake swim over and join the fun.

Chapter Text

Will rose out of the water and perched himself on the edge of the rock, splashing his foot lightly in the water. The cool water dripped down his bare legs. He watched it’s gentle undulations ripple across, colliding with parallel ones the other boys washed away. He covered himself modestly with his hand and exited the pool. Across the pool, Devin sat, dried and clothed, writing frantically in his journal.

Devin’s eyes casted up like they were meant to land on Will. His eyes widened in surprise at Will watching him. Will waved over at him. Devin smiled and watched Will gesture to his notebook. Devin shyly looked back down at his paper and closed it, getting to his feet and walking out of the cave. He looked embarrassed.

“Aww,” Jah joked, throwing his clothes back on like Will was. “Bro scared him away.”

Will made a small smile, leaning down to run his scrawny bruised legs through the pants. “We should head back; the sun should be rising soon.”

Just as soon, Devin walked back in with Pan behind him looking furious. Will jumped to his feet like a scared animal. Pan’s hand was tightly gripping Devin’s shoulder, who was wincing in pain.

Pan’s eyes landed on Blake. “Boys.” He said, testing his fury.

“Pan.” Blake rose and stepped in front of Will. “I can explain.”

“No need.” Pan shoved Devin forward. “Devin already told me everything.”

“Devin, you snitch!” Jah insulted.

“You will report back to the camp immediately.” Pan ordered, his voice lowering, yet increasing in volume at the same time. A pause waited amongst them. “Now!” He shouted abruptly, watching the boys scramble to their feet, hurrying out of the cave. Will followed suit.

Suddenly, a hard fist wrapped around his forearm and tossed him back. “You.” Pan said. “I need a word with you.”

Will stumbled back and looked past Pan at Blake. There was that look again. There was something behind those fearful brown eyes. But he left without saying a word to either of them. Will’s eyes landed back on Pan.

“You are becoming a problem.” Pan said, walking around the pool with his hands behind his back. “First, you disrupt the pirates in an effort to escape.” He kneels down and takes his hand through the water, feeling the temperature. “Then, you directly disobey my orders and take my boys out in the middle of the night. Endangering them to Neverland’s evening animals and exposing them to other potential threats.” he rises to his feet and glared at Will. “And above all of this, you continue to disobey my orders-”

“You can’t order me around.” Will said before catching his tongue.

“No. This is where you shut your mouth.” Pan’s voice rises. “You’re done talking.”

Will took a breath and watched Pan approach him.

“Why am I here?” Will asks.

Pan ignored his question, walking behind him, out of view. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear enough the first time.”

Will turned his head to face Pan, only to get shoved down against the cave floor, the back of his head hit the rock with a hard crack. He cried out in pain and lifted his hand up to cradle his injured head. His chest was met with a boot pressing into him. He coughed out, breaths getting shorter as he looked up at Pan.

“Have you ever seen what Dreamshade can do to the human body?” Pan asked, pressing harder. When Will attempted to grab his ankle, Pan kicked up, hitting Will’s jaw, his head meeting the rock again. Will didn’t hear the scream he let out right away, disorientated by the striking pain rippling through his head, down his neck, his spine. Then he heard his own scream echoing off the walls. He was shaking. He didn’t want to shake. He didn’t want to tremble when he tried to get to his feet.

“Once I make contact with your blood, it spreads like wildfire through your veins.” Pan explained, walking around the pool. “It’s a throbbing pain that burns under your skin and tricks your brain into hallucinations. You are dehydrated, and your brain will make you think you are starving. You will have no choice but to curl over and either go unconscious or wait until it spreads into your heart.”

Will coughs and stands up, the world around him focusing in and out in annoying bursts. “How long does that take?”

Pan approached him, nothing but a silhouette to him. “If one of the boys got nicked by Dreamshade on the journey here,” he said lowly. “They would be dead by dawn.”

Speaking of dawn, the sunrise shimmered through the cave entrance and grazed Pan’s face, ridding of any shadows or darkness in his features. In one moment of clarity, Will could see a protruding vein on Pan’s left temple, the tension in his jaw, the exhaustion under his green eyes. Pan’s hand suddenly climbs into Will’s back scalp, pulling him down to his knees.

“If you ever…” Pan hissed through gritted teeth. “...put my boys in danger again. I will not hesitate to watch you curl over and die.” Pan enunciated the last few words, and when he finished, tossed Will into the stone face first.

Will stayed still for a moment, awaiting the next injury. It hurt to breathe, to think, to feel. But feeling is all he could do. It swelled through his body like a stubborn, unrelenting, debilitating leech. He couldn’t hear Pan’s footsteps vibrating out of the cave. When he found the strength, he lifted a quivering palm to the nape of his neck. His fingers grazed his scalp and he rested them back on the floor. He hoped his hair was just wet from water and not from blood.

Eventually, he returned to an empty homebase. The firepit had been abandoned, the fire was put out and not a sound was around but the wind. It swayed through the trees and their full branches. He took it upon himself to sit down on a log and hold his aching head. Suddenly, a twig snapped a few feet in front of him.

“Sorry,” Felix said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. The boys are out training.” He paused then. “How did the talk go with Pan?”

Will cradled his head again. “Not much talking.”

Felix hummed and continued to walk around. Will’s eyes analyzed Felix for a hard moment. He was one of the taller boys, his bright blonde hair thin and long under his brown hood. Long face with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. He held himself with authority and security. Probably because he was Pan’s right-hand man. What was especially curious was the deep rooted 8-inch scare along his face.

“Did he do that?” Will asked, not catching his tongue.

Felix’s head whipped around to him. Of course, he knew what he was talking about, but he ignored the comment.

“What did you do?” Will half-joked, trying to let out a laugh.

Felix picked up a blade off the dirt and stood up in thought. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration at nothing before landing on Will. His eyes expressed a sense of fear of the recalled memory.

“I asked the wrong question.” He answered and left it at that.

The next week was slow in recovery. Will was put on chore duty, cleaning up after meals and firepits. He oversaw cleaning off animal blood off of spears and arrows after the boys went hunting. They all took shifts much like working environment. If one person couldn’t show up, another took their place. It seemed everyone on the island had their own strengths, and Pan made sure to put them to use.

Devin wasn’t the strongest or the oldest, but he was an excellent hunter with his quiet and patient demeanor. He was a natural with animals and excellent at delivering a clean kill. While someone like Sandesh did laundry. Of course, Will was in charge of laundry for the next few days, so Sandesh was put in charge of cooking the food.

Jared typically chopped wood with his strength, Jah’sir picked fruit and vegetables with his extreme height, Blake went hunting with Devin as well as built obsidian arrows and other weapons. His intelligence allowed him to be an excellent accommodation for any task.

The thought of how long he had been on this island made Will shiver.

“How long has Pan been on this island?” Will asked Jared during their training session.

Jared shrugged, picking up a spear. “He has been here the longest and time does work differently here…”

“Different how?”

“Ask anyone here and they will tell you that Pan’s look as never changed. He’s always been a boy. Never a man.” Jared answered. “Kinda his whole thing.”

“What about us?” Will asked, picking up a spear. “We don’t grow old?”

Jared smiled sadly and spoke. “We stay the same, but our character changes.”

The thought of Will never growing old made him squirm.

Will and Jared continued to circle; his dark brown eyes locked with him. Jared suddenly leaped towards him, his spear, handled only by his left hand, was heading straight toward him. Will dodged to the left with his whole body, Jared passing in front of him. Jared immediately spun around after landing from his leap and brought the spear around in a fast and fluid motion with its point suddenly coming to a dead halt at the right side of Will’s neck from behind him.

Will stopped, completely still, his head leaning away from the spear, his eyes glancing rightwards to Jared through his periphery, his breathing elevated. He was silently demonstrating that he had just killed him.

The next day, Will got the gist. Jared began to circle again, Will readying himself. The dark-skinned boy lunged again, this time not leaping, his legs carrying him fast forward. Will took his metal rod and used it to deflect his spear upwards, but while his chest was exposed, Jared knocked his shield into Will, causing him to stumble back. Jared quickly brought his spear to the front of his neck.

Will froze again, looking down at the obsidian end of the spear, and then up at Jared. The taller boy bit his lip and crinkled his nose up quickly, an expression like, okay, I see how it is.
Jared had effortless skill. He was delivering incredibly fast kills. And Will knew how solid the spear was, yet here he was gracefully kicking Will’s ass with this spear in one hand.

Jared pulled his spear back to a neutral position and silently began to circle him again. It went on like that for a while.

On the 9th day of training, Will’s feet were stronger, and he had a much more active posture, bent forward slightly. Two hands on the spear. They mutually circled twice. Will tried to go on the offensive for this day, thrusting his wooden pole towards Jared, which was knocked down with his spear, then the shorter pushed his spear forward towards him, but Will dodged backward this time, it barely missing him in a kill spot.

He then took his spear and knocked Jared’s up into the air, but also parried to his left and wound up on Jared’s right, his body facing slightly away from Will due to his forward thrust. Will was about to bring his spear to the side of his neck to win, when to his shock and surprise, the tip of Jared’s spear suddenly appeared stopped in his face and he froze again.

The fact Jared knew where to stop without stabbing Will in the face was an impressive testament to his spatial awareness and proprioception. He then slowly turned his head to the right and looked at Will from the corners of his eyes, a serious expression still on his face. Wills’ face fell and his lips twitched upwards. He was simultaneously growing pissed that Jared was leaving him absolutely no chance. With Jared, it was clearly learn fast or die.

On the 13th day, they took their sparring to the main camp. Boys surrounded them like men on the sidelines of a football game, cheering and chanting their names. Pan and Blake stood beside one another, both focused on the spar.

Will and Jared circled one another with hard-locked gazes, their longest one yet. Without charging, Jared bared his teeth and hissed at him. Will learned that this feral act of aggression was an act of intimidation. The wildness and freedom of it scared the enemy. Will snarled back. The boys that were watching were hyped up.

Jared then suddenly jumped forward, thrusting his spear at Wills’ chest, Will dodged to Jared’s left, and anticipated that Jared would bring his spear back around, so he grabbed the spear with his left hand, pressing it down with his strength. The boys echoed with cheers as Jared was being pulled to the ground slightly. Then, Will moved in towards Jared’s neck with the knife. Jared quickly held his shield up to stop his knife from falling any closer to him. Will’s knife clanged on the embedded obsidian of her shield, and he pushed back on the knife and his hand with her shield. Jared then quickly ducked under Will, his momentum twisting the spear out of Will’s hand.

Will, terrified that he was now behind him, quickly spun around and just in time to see Jared’s spear coming at his face and leaned backward, his lower back curving and just missing the finishing blow of his spear. Jared retracted his spear. They circled again, intense expressions on both. As far as they were concerned, they were the only two people at this field right now.

Will sprang towards Jared, anticipating a thrust of his spear that he would grab and dodge, but to Will’s surprise, he brought his spear low to the ground and swiped it, tripping him. Will didn’t fall to the ground completely, he caught himself with his left hand but then saw Jared bringing his spear down to him from high. He scrambled out of the way on three limbs and stood quickly once he was cleared.

Ooohs and Ahhs sprinkled the crowd as Blake could be seen smirking slightly. Pan, on the other hand, frowned deeper.

Will rushed Jared aggressively. Jared spun around and dodged to his right as he passed the brunette, his spear making a wide arc from his spin, just about to land against Will when suddenly, the taller caught his rapidly moving spear with his left hand, making a pained face reacting to the sting of its stopped force in his palm.

Cheers echoed through the crowd with Sandesh and Devin cheering Will’s name.

With all of his strength, Will quickly pulled the spear passed him, his elbow bent, his bicep flexed, the tip of the spear jutting far behind him. Jared was yanked into him with this motion, his body pressed against Will’s. Will quickly turned, Jared on the ground. His pull stopped when his knife found itself against the edge of Jared’s neck. He won.

Bodies pressed together, Jared looked up at him, him down at Will. They both stared into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily, completely numb to the world around them. Jared was the first to smile, Will returning a subtle grin. They then heard a whistle from the crowd and a slow clap broke out among those watching. This shook them from their focus on each other and back to the boys. As they got up, boys embraced Will and praised him.

But when Will turned to see Blake and Pan, he was met with the blonde walking away into the forest and Blake with a face of rejection. When Blake’s eyes met Will, he smiled with glee, masking the fear that was previously on his face.

Something was going on under this training that they weren’t telling him.

🟈🟈🟈

Will stared up at his roof and felt his chest gently rise and fall. He glanced over at his bedside table, at the journal. He reached over and grabbed it, still laying on his pillow. With the book hovering over his face, he flipped the pages and wrote down one single sentence.

“After this I’m never going to be the same.” It read. He had made a habit since being here of building some song lyrics. Perhaps one day when he was back home, he could tell this story with his sisters.

He set down his journal on his chest and fought back a broken cry. He could have sworn he could faintly hear Ira’s distant crying. All he wanted to do was cradle her and hold her. He sworn to whatever heaven he thought was real that he would change. He would be there. He would give up his life to take care of them. To hear them, one last time.

He turned on his back and cradled an extra pillow under his chin.

“Will?” He heard Claire coo.

He turned his head behind him and saw Claire, clear as day, with her head on his pillow. Sweat beaded her soft forehead and slicked her short hairs on the side of her face. She whined slightly, seemingly having a nightmare. Will gently kissed her forehead and pressed his nose bridge against hers.

“Shhh…” He said, feeling tears drip down his face. “I’m here.”

Claire gently moved closer to Will and cradled her head under his chin, gripping his shirt tightly. “Mama…” She gently cried.

“I know, honey.” Wills voice broke as he fought back another sob. “You're okay. We’re okay. It’s okay.”

After this I’m never going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Will sat on the spray-painted couch directly next to the lit-up tree. Presents under it were limited this year. He scrolled on his phone, occasionally looking up at Claire and Ira whose eye were glued at the TV screen.

You know the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach? Like you’ve been here before? Like you're expecting something? Something terrible? Will always got that feeling when his stepfather, Robert, came home from work. It was one of those rare occasions that his mother and Rob were in the same place at the same time. Like a family, he thought bravely.

He ran down the mental list of things Rob could possibly scold him for. Dishes, Done. Laundry, in the dryer. Room, semi clean. Claire and Ira? Changed, fed,and now are glued to their tablets and TV screen patiently waiting of their father to come home. Bathroom? Semi organized last minute. There is only so much you can get done in a hurry when your mother alerts the house that he would be coming home.

It felt like they were preparing for a bomb to shatter the house into crumbling pieces. Making sure there was nothing that could piss him off. There was always one thing that was out of their control. Their mother.

Suddenly, the door swung open revealing a 6-foot bald man with his green work uniform on. Rob. He drove a big delivery truck around the state. Will didn’t care to really know what he truly did, but he knew it meant long overnight hours. His eyes lit up at the sight and sound of Claire and Ira running up to him.

“Daddy!” they all shouted, embracing him. He picked them both up and carried them into the kitchen, leaving Will in the living room, staring blankly at the twinkling Christmas tree.

He stood frozen, at attention, and listening. Listening to him open the pantry, the cabinet, the fridge, babble with his daughters. He was a deer in Robert’s headlights, a solider waiting for his station, his orders.

“What have the girls had to eat?” Rob would always ask.

Will spurred into the routine explanation of their whole day. “Girls woke up late. Addie fed them eggs and fruit and then took them to the park. They didn’t last because it was so cold outside, and we couldn’t find their jacket-”

“You couldn’t find their jacket?” He asked.

Shit.

“Well- No. But we gave them one of ours. Once they were back, we changed Ira and Claire. Ira pooped twice today-”

“Where’s their jacket?” Rob asked.

“I don’t know.” Will shrugged. “I looked everywhere for it, and Mom was chasing us out the door because she wanted them to go do something so-”

“Where is your mother?”

Will’s stomach churned. “Upstairs.”

 Rob didn’t say anything and set down the girls on the counter, next to the gingerbread house.

 “Ira had a bottle and took a nap. Claire was on her tablet. We fed them rice and some of the microwave meals.” Will’s breath was caught in his throat. “Dishes are all in the dishwasher. Their dirty.”

“Did you start it?” He asked, opening the fridge.

“No…” Will sighed.

“Why not?” Rob asked, taking out a jug of milk and taking a sip from the gallon.

“Forgot.” Will stepped away back into the living room. “Can I go upstairs now?”

“Yeah.” Rob muttered, putting the milk away and shutting the fridge door.

Before Will took a single step on the stairs, he turned and asked. “How was work?”

Rob kissed Claire’s head. “Busy.” He picked up Ira and began talking to her. “Did they not change you, stinker? I know! I know they didn’t!” She babbled incoherently and giggled with him.

Will didn’t let his frustration show until he shut his bedroom door behind him. He spotted Addie, on her phone. His room, cluttered with beer cans, smelled like incense and cigarettes.

He sat down at his desk, opening his laptop. “Rob’s home.”

He heard Addie sigh. “Girls okay?” she asked.

“They’re fine.” Will replied.

🟈🟈🟈

An arrow snapped through the morning air and toward the target. Will has excelled at his spear work, and he was excellent at hand-to-hand combat, briefly pinning Jared to the ground before being pinned. His bow and arrow-

Another arrow flew by, hitting the edge of the target entirely.

-needed work.

Will huffed out in frustration and dropped his bow, walking toward the target to retrieve the arrows. Blake has corrected his form enough times for him to know what he was doing wrong, but his mind was clouded with memories of his sisters and family. Every arrow shot was another straight to his heart.

He was wasting time here, thinking of another plan to escape. So far, he had successfully concluded that Pan can in fact fly, among other methods of transportation, but only uses the pixie dust in emergencies. When Will asked Devin why Pan doesn't have more of it, Devin replied,

“He had a bit of a falling out with the fairies.” He spoke. “He got one fairy in trouble and lost her wings, along with her power. They won’t let Pan anywhere near their dust.”

“Tinker Bell?” Will asked.

Devin seemed surprised that Will knew of her. “How did you know that?”

Will smirked. “It’s the fairytale. Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Wendy-”

Suddenly, Devin leaped over to him and covered his mouth with a palm. “Shut up. Don’t let Pan hear you talking about her.”

“Who?” Will said behind muffled palms.

Devin looked around briefly, scanning for Pan before settling on Will. “Wendy.” Devin mouthed. So, she does exist, Will thought to himself. His plan? Break into Pan’s treehouse, get the pixie dust.

One morning, when Will joined Devin and Blake for hunting, they found themselves at the eastern edge of the Neverland Forest. The cliffs. At the edge of the forest, lay a rocky ground, abruptly leading to a what looks like a hundred-foot drop into a black foggy forest, dense with dead branched and boulders.

Will’s stomach dropped when they found it, remembering the feeling of the gravity pulling him briefly down the cliff. All before Pan stepped forward to grab him. Will still can’t quite figure out how he did that.

“Dark Hollow.” Devin explains. “It’s where the shadows are.”

“The shadows?” Will asked.

Devin clenches his jaw, fear washing over his face like he’s recalling a memory. “When someone rips your shadow away from your body, you die, and your shadow goes here.”

Will furrows his eyebrows. “Why isn’t Pan dead then?”

Blake suddenly pops Devin on the shoulder and smiles at Will. “Ignore him. He’s trying to scare you.”

Will tries to look over at Devin, but it's casted away, watching Devin and Blake lead the way back to camp with their kill. Some part of him wanted to fall that day.

His plan? Break into Pan’s treehouse, get the pixie dust. Find a way into Dark Hollow and get a shadow to fly him out of the island. How would he capture one? He thought for a moment while sitting silently on a log. The fire roared and crackled, ashes flying up with bright red light and falling onto the ground, burning down to ash. One caught itself onto Will’s arm and burned him, taking him by surprise.

“Ow-” he said, swatting his bare forearm.

“You good?” Jah asked, a few feet from him.

Will looked up at him. “Yeah, I’m good-” Suddenly, looking past him, he spotted a firefly, lit up and flying through the crisp Neverland wind. He smiled to himself, an idea sprouting inside his mind.

His plan? Find Tinkerbell.

🟈🟈🟈

A crash upstairs alerted Will and Addie who were busy with the girls downstairs. This happened shortly after Rob went upstairs. Somehow, Will and Addie never found themselves on the same floor as him for long. Then came the shouting.

Will ordered Addie stay with Claire and Ira as he moved over to his older brother’s room. Swinging the door open, he pulled down his headset and looked behind him at Will.

“What was that?” He exclaimed.

“Mom and Rob.” Will answered.

Clayton wasted no time, leaping out of his room and running upstairs with Will trailing behind him.

“Give me my phone!” Mom shouted inside her room.

Clayton and Will sprinted up the stairs and swung their door open. Rob and Mom were exiting the bathroom, shouting and screaming at each other. Rob had a white knuckle grip on their mother’s wrist. But she wasn’t fragile. She broke away from him.

Their shouting rattled off the walls like thrown stones on thin glass. It set Clayton and Will frozen, watching Rob continuously accuse their mother of using meth, blowing their money, and cheating on him. Meanwhile, their mother denies all of it and hurries to fill her purse with anything she could find.

“Can you guys just shut up?!” Clayton suddenly exclaimed. “You're scaring the girls!”

Rob cornered Mom away from their bedroom door. He kept shouting at her, accusing her of using. But Clayton and Will could watch Mom look around rapidly for an exit. She found her opening and bolted, tripping over laundry and anything else in her path towards the door.

“Don’t let her leave!” Rob demands, snatching up her forearm, his nails digging crescents into her skin. “Sara-”

“He’s lying. I didn’t do anything! You gambled all our money away!” Mom accused back.

Clayton was the first to intervene. Quickly crossing the room, he tried to tear Rob away from their mother, only to receive an elbow to the nose by his stepfather, knocking him back into the dresser.

“Don’t let her leave!” Rob ordered once more, trying to grab after her. Clayton and Will chased after the broken couple down the stairs from their 2nd floor bedroom. Claire and Ira quickly reacted to seeing their parents in such a state. Addie quickly picked up Ira while Will reached for Claire, hearing the terrible cries tear out of their mouths. Addie took Ira upstairs, using herself as a barrier between the baby and the fighting couple.

When Will picked up the small toddler, Rob and their mother migrated into the kitchen. Clayton followed them, shouting at them to stop.

Claire whimpered into Will neck as he carried her up the stairs. She was beginning to get too big to be cradled like this, but she was too frozen to move. To young to move as fast as the older children could. Distantly, Will could hear Ira’s terror filled screams echo off the hallways, vibrating into his core-being.

That sound would never leave him.

As soon as they made their way into Will’s and Addies bedroom, the front door slammed shut, shaking the entire house into silence.

Chapter Text

Clayton bursts through the front door, alone and red with tears. Will scrambled over from the kitchen to ask what happened.

“I went with them into the car, and they were fighting-” Clayton failed to keep his voice straight, pitchy from his sobs. “-They were screaming at each other, and I told them that-”

Will looked at him rapidly, anger bubbling in his stomach.

“Where are the girls? Are they okay?” He asked suddenly.

Will frowned, walking over to a countertop poorly built by their mother during one of her highs. He brushed some nails and tools away and picked up a cigarette. “They're okay.” he gestured to his pocket. “You got a lighter?”

Clayton sighed and checked his pockets. “There's one in my room. I’ll meet you out there.”

The patio to their townhouse was a small space with open half walls and curtains that their mother installed for their “privacy”. To the left stood a chair with a large lemonade pitcher filled with water. Inside the water was a smaller water bottle, the cap working as a bong. The water was murky and always made Will gag just thinking about how it would feel smoking out of it.

Instead of concrete, there was a large cheap rug stained with spit and ash. Cigarette buds were tossed and left around the corner walls, piling up behind other trash and broken glass.

As Clayton pulled the screen door open and stepped through, Will set the paper between his lips and waited patiently for Clayton to flick the light on. It took a few tries, but ultimately worked, Will coughing briefly at the unattended large drag.

He handed it to Clayton. “What were they fighting about?”

The cold pinned their skin with chicken skin. Snow had piled round their half walls, ice creeping into the patio.

Clayton took a long drag and shrugged. “Same shit. I don’t know why he keeps calling her an addict. She’s been clean.”

Both Will and Clayton knew that was not true, but they liked to believe it. Clayton took another drag and handed it over to Will. “I wish we never met him.”

“Rob?” Will took the cigarette and carefully flicked the ash to the carpet below them.

“Yeah.” Clayton watched it fall slowly with a faint orange glare before it fizzed out below Will’s foot. “I wish he was how he used to be.”

Will took a careful drag and blew it out away from Clayton’s face. He hated the smell. “I wish mom would just leave him.”

Clayton nodded in agreement and took the cigarette from him. “Not much we can do now but take care of the girls. Make sure they have a better shot at life then we do.”

Will knew they had options. They just all had failed. Each time their mother or Robert was arrested, they would return eventually. Every time Mom would pack them all up in their van and attempt to leave, they would be coming right back the next night. Every time Rob apologized for a broken door or a ripped piece of clothing, it would be a wall next time. It would be a bruise next time. Each time mom went to rehab, she would start back on her crack.

These thoughts erupted tears in Will’s eyes. He quickly wiped them away and gave Clayton the rest of the bud before stepping back inside.

🟈🟈🟈

Day 23

The morning glares through my blinds as I realize nothing has changed. I’m still on this island. I’m still thousands of miles away from home. Every day is another one further away. Sometimes it’s harder to fathom that I’m literally in Neverland. Sometimes I make myself believe all these boys are crazy and I’m the only sane one. That is until I see Pan appear without a warning behind us. I’m scared this be how every day begins.

-

This island held a lot of celebrations. This one was milder. This one was held the night before Will fought every single lost boy to prove himself worthy of the title, ‘Savior.’ Each boy had different strengths, are therefore, different battles will take place.

It will start with the youngest and move up, starting with Devin. Of course, age was relative due to time working differently, so they decided based on age and not by how long you've been on the island.

“Devin is security combat.” Jared explained around the firepit. “With him, it’s capture the flag. You will need to capture his flag and get away untagged. Being tagged can mean you were either hit with a dull arrow, touched, or pinned to the ground for over 3 seconds.”

Will paid close attention to this, even if he didn’t car all that much for the label, he was always up for a good game.

“Then me.” Sandesh explained, sitting next to Blake, who sat beside Will. He had a thin smirk on his. “I get to insult you until you snap. You snap? You lose.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Mental Warfare. Sandesh will get all the information he can about you and use it to torment you. If you can last 10 minutes without having any damaging emotional reaction, you move up.”

Blake leaned close to Will and whispered into his ear. “I wouldn’t be too worried about him.”

“Be worried about Blake.” Jah shouted from across the firepit. “He’s the best archer out of all of us!”

Jared nodded. “Then you take on Blake with an archery battle. Whoever gets hit first loses. With a little cat and mouse. Then you got me. Then there's Jah’sir who going to race you to the top of-” Jared pointed to a small foundation with a 20oot rope attached to the bottom. “That block.”

Will gritted his teeth. He could feel his arms tiring from the sheer thought of climbing it. And the rope burns on his hands?

“What do I get out of this again?” Will asks, looking back at Jared.

“Respect mostly.” Felix commented. “You being here kind of saves the island, and therefore us.”

Will felt guilt flood his stomach at the thought of leaving. “So, just because I’m here everything is all hunky dory?”

Blake tenses up and watched Jared reply, “It’s a lot more complicated than that. But basically.”

“What happens if I leave?” Will said. There was a long silence all around the fire. Will quickly said- “I mean- like- what was it like when I wasn’t here?”

“The same.” Sandesh muttered, tossing a stick into the fire. Blake shoved his shoulder.

Felix took this upon himself. He stood up, all eyes on him. “I suppose there is no way around this conversation anymore. And since Pan is out by his tree, I suppose this is the best time to say it…” Felix’s eyes snapped onto Will. “Pan is the center of this island. The island isn’t dying. Pan is.”

Gasps and protests erupt from the boys as Will’s body freezes up with fear.

Felix continues. “We, the lost boys, and Pan are no longer being sustained by magic or given unageing ability.”

“Why?” Devin shouted, bringing his nose out of his journal. “Why is Pan dying?”

“Would you shut up?!” Sandesh shouted at him.

“Pan is the oldest on the island, he was here before us, and he will be here after us.” Felix continued, ignoring the bickering boys. “But since the magic of Neverland is ceasing, Pan is… growing up.” Silence falls over the crowd. “And so are all of us.”

Blake stands, grabbing the attention of all the boys. “You have the heart of the truest believer, Will. You being here, that heart is sustaining the little magic Neverland has left.” He pauses. “Pan… needs it.”

“The fuck do you mean, 'he needs it?'” Will exclaimed, offended. “You knew about this?!”

“Will!” Blake suddenly grabs his shoulder. “If you don’t give your heart to Pan, we all die.”

“Blake,” Will says softly. “If I give my heart to Pan, I die.”

Blake smiles. “No. You won’t. We can divide your heart so that you and he share it.”

“What…” Will says, furrowing his eyebrows, suddenly shouting-” The fuck are you even talking about?! Do you seriously think that would work? Even so- Why wouldn’t he take it for himself? Do you really believe Pan would share?”

“Do you believe that?” Blake asked genuinely.

Will says without a beat. “Yes. He is as selfish as the day I met him. He is arrogant, a sociopath, and a complete child! He may be as old as time or whatever the hell- but he is the craziest person I have ever met. He needs my heart?! Are you kidding me? My heart. He needs- do you hear yourself?”

“And he is dying!” Blake thundered back. “We are dying! If you can’t get past your childish feud with him to save everyone's lives, then you are just as selfish and crazy as him!”

A silence falls over everyone as they watch the duo stare at each other, both wildly full of rage. Will, dejected, turns and shakes his head, looking away. Blake takes a step toward him, a few inches from his face.

“If you die,” Blake’s voice breaks in a crack. “Pan dies.”

Will looks at him for a moment and forgets to remember his plan to escape entirely. He forgets his sisters. He forgets his brother. He forgets his mother, father, Ally, Bree, Eli, and the rest of his life. “Then let’s get it done.”

The remaining night was filled with drunk teenagers dancing around a fire. The sharp cool air nipped at their cheeks as yelps and hollers echoed throughout the trees. Repeated familiar melody of the drum alerted Will into song.

“You know that song?” He asked, looking over at Sandesh with a wild smile.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed. “Finally!”

Sandesh watched as the boys all looked at Will with quizzical eyes. “Do-” Will smiled. “Do that beat again.”

After a few measures, Sandesh and Will both sing in laughter, “Give me a second, I, I need to get my story straight. My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the empire state.” Laughter fills the camp as many boys sit down to watch the performance. “My lovers she is waiting for me just across the bar. My seat’s been taken by some sunglasses asking ‘bout a scar, and-”

Blake suddenly laughed, catching on and singing the same song, stumbling over some lyrics. “I know I gave it to you months ago! I know you’re trying to forget. But between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, you know-”

The fire blazes as Blake stands, knowing the chorus more. “So, if by the time…” He approached Will playfully, both acting out dramatically. “The bar closes, and you feel like falling down.” They join hands… “I'll carry you home…” and suddenly-

“Tonight!” They both sing terribly with drunken laughter. The floor spins around them as Will concludes they are for the same generation. ‘Probably why we get along so well.’, Will thinks to himself as him and Blake spins around. “We are young!” Sandesh joins them, tossing the drum aside to Felix, who is smirking slightly next to Devin, whos' nose in his journal. “So, let’s set the world on fire!” Will halts to a stop as Blake and Sandesh finish the chorus, “We can burn brighter-” Will jogs over to Devin. “-than the sun!”

Will snatches Devin’s journal out of his hand. Devin reaches to rip it out of his hands, but Will turns his body around to look at what interested Devin more than their singing. A detailed drawing. The charcoal sketch almost effortlessly across thick paper displaying a portrait of three boys dancing around a fire, Will’s bright eyes and wide smile the center of focus.

Devin takes the moment to seize the journal from Will’s calloused hands. Will giggles at fear on Devin face.

“What’s in there?” He jokes, “Naked women?”

Devin looks around and doesn’t answer. He takes Will’s wrist and sits him down on the log next to him while the other boys mumble the rest of the song.

Devin closes his journal, bookmarking the page. “You want to get out of here?”

Will’s eyes light up in surprise as a warm red blush rushes through his cheeks. “Devin, I’m not-”

“No!” Devin whispers slash shouts. “Not like-” Suddenly, he rips a piece of paper out of his journal and writes on it frantically. Will watched the younger boy fold it and hand it to Will beside his thigh.

Will furrows his eyebrows and takes it. Opening the folds, he realizes. “Oh…” he looks at Devin with a shocked face. Devin nods a nervous face at him. Will quickly stands up and walks toward the fire.

“Hey-” Sandesh pulls up from behind and ruffles his hair. “There he is! Where’d you go?”

Will turns and throws the piece of paper into the fire behind his back. “Went to go for a piss.”

Devin hears this and looks at Will with wide eyes. Will returns the look with a smile and a nod. Devin sighed heavily, fear washing over his face.

“Where’s Pan?” Will suddenly asks.

“Why?” Sandesh pokes at his side. “You miss him?”

“What- No. He usually is at these things.” Will shrugs off.

Blake comes up and takes a hand on Will’s shoulder. “He’s at his tree.”

Will nods and looks over at Devin once more, only to be met with an empty log. He faces softens with sorrow and looks back at Blake. “I’m headed up. Big day tomorrow.”

“Ahh!” Sandesh exclaims, “He’s holding out on us.”

Will’s eyebrow flashes up. “You gonna miss me?” Sandesh tosses a pinecone his way, barely missing him as he jerks out of the way. A chuckle erupts from his throat, as he quickly eyes Pan’s cabin. “See you guys tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Neverland’s wind chills with every minute that passes. Will’s feet have grown stronger throughout the days spent on the hard soil. Once bruised and bloody became calloused and tough. Will’s foot dug deep into the hot sand, taking a hard breath, tuning out the cheers from the boys around him. Devin was waiting for him back at camp with a bright red cloth that acted as a flag. At least, that's what Will hoped. Devin could be hiding out inside the forest that stood a few feet before him. If he was tagged, he failed.

Will’s dark hair blew in the wind over his dark, determined eyes. His heart thumped against his chest with a steady beat as Will steadied his breathing. With one more breath, he closed his eyes and waited for the call. Once Felix shouted for him to start, he sprinted into the forest.

🟈🟈🟈

Converse propel against the concrete pavement as shouts follow Will out of the store. The brunette sped past cars that ram to a stop and honked at the fleeing teenager.

“Don’t let him get away!”

Screams erupt as the boy dashes past families with grocery carts. Will whips his way around cars backing out of parking spots as gunshots erupt from behind him. Soon enough, he collides with a large man who tackles him to the ground.

“Get off of me!” He screams. His converse finds their way around the stranger's shoulder and his knees snaps forward, tearing the man off of him.

Tumbling to his feet, he speeds past the parking lot and into the intersection. Cars swerve and swing past him into a crashing stop.

“Get him!”

Panic fuels Will’s chest as he leaps away from the cars and into a distant neighborhood. Just as fast, a truck accelerates and races toward him. Streetlights light his way through the neighborhood as the vehicle rushes closer.

Suddenly, cars roar in front of him and trap him between them and the other truck. Will dives down before the drivers gets out of the front seat and stomps toward him.

“Where is my money, boy?”

The truck driver seizes Will from behind him, wrapping his rough hands around the young boy’s wrists.
“Let me go!” Will demands, thrashing around.

“Make this easy, Will.” The man in front of him orders. “Get him in the truck.”

“No!” Will pleads suddenly. The truck driver drags the boy to his truck. “Please! I don’t know!”

“Make sure you tie him down when he’s in there.” The older man flicks out a cigarette and lights it. He watches with apathetic eyes as the teen rages with fear and pleads for mercy.

🟈🟈🟈

Will makes it to the camp with suspicious ease. He takes careful steps around the dirt, crouching down to eye the red cloth flying in the wind. Today was a particularly windy day for Neverland. A cold drift grazes past the back of Will’s neck as he gazes onto, the ground. With one step forward, Will snaps to watch a rabbit hop out of a bush.

It’s dust fur twitches as he turns to look at Will. The brunette crouches to the dirt and smiles a sweet smile at it. With one hop. It inches closer to him. And with the next, it’s small foot to caught and tied onto a thin piece of string that hid under the dried leaves.

Will yelps out, stumbling back as the small prey animal is thrown up and tangled up into a net 20 feet into the air.

The chaos must have alerted Devin, as rustling and what sounds like leaves crunching under feet approach him and get louder with every passing second. Without wasting another moment, Will lunges past the trap and rips the thin red cloth off a thick branch, hanging and taunting him ahead.

Suddenly, an arrow zips past him, grazing his peach fuzz and snapping onto a tree behind him. A exclaim of a swear is heard in the trees.

He missed.

Will sprints out the camp and deep into the forest. Leaves and branches block Devin’s view of him as he chases him through the trees. He is slower in the thick oak, but he prefers the high ground.

Another arrow zooms past the branches and impales a tree to Will’s left. He is getting sloppy, desperate, and slow. Will smiled a wicked smile and continued running. The bright red cloth sticking out in the lush green. Devin could barely tear his eyes away from the bright contrast.

Abruptly, Devin drops behind him with a thud. He’s on the ground now. Nowhere to hide. Will heard his approaching footsteps as he whips between tree trunks, attempting to juke the younger boy out of his path.

Devin was relentless and quick, but Will could see the beach a few yards ahead. The leaves crunch under his stomping foot as the hot sand is brought closer with every step. Devin shouted for him, but it was only echoed into the trees as Will’s muscles ached and throbbed with pain. Truth be told, he hated running.

But right now? It was a high worth aching for. Seeing Pan’s smug face drop in surprise. Seeing his eyes widen and his stupid smirk part as he realizes how he underestimated him. He pictured the boys cheering for him. He pictured Pan smiling proudly. Maybe that’s what he craved. For someone, somewhere out there to be proud of him. Proud for every muscle ache, every drop of blood bled, every tear shed, every sweat bead.

Suddenly, he felt the anticipating finger brushing his neck.

And then came the hot sand against his whole body as Devin collapses on top of him, tangling in grains of sand between hair and skin. Whispered crowd the boys as the related question is asked. Did he make it? Did Devin tag him? Did he win? As he climbed over Devin, dusting the sand away, he snapped his head around, searching for Pan’s.

There it was. His smirk, as bitter as dream shade.

Will gazed up at him as he approached, knees digging into the sand. As he approached, the sun behind him hid and glared around his hair, like he was some sort of angel taking him to heaven. It was only his voice that ripped the fantasy out of his mortal mind.

“Stand up.”

There it was. His voice was breathing and in disbelief, almost. His green eyes contrasted as they glared down at him. He had heard it all before, he barely hesitated. Devin was left behind as the crowd of boys surrounded Will and Pan. Pan grasped Will’s bruised wrist, which ached in pain from the fall onto the sand. His hand slides into the air and balled into a fist reflexively. Cheers echo around him and all Will could see is the faces of Jared, Blake, Jah, Sandesh, Felix, and Pan. He smiled a wicked smile and roared with exhilaration. The boys echoed his cheer.

He won.

🟈🟈🟈

The boys surround the fire pit, talking amongst themselves while feasting on the latest kill by Devin. Meanwhile, Will is sat next to Felix, who is busy at work on his worst, wrapping the swollen skin. His eyes are like daggers into Will’s pale flesh, his knuckles brown and bruised. His eyes caught Will’s for a moment and dared look back down at his wrist, tying the gauze around his hand.

“So, how does this heart thing work again?” Will asks.

Felix doesn’t answer.

“Because-” Will chuckles. “Typically, when you take out someone's beating heart, they die.”

Suddenly, Felix’s eyes meet his. “You're not going to die.”

“That much faith in ‘im, eh?” Will mumbled, looking around at the boys who were too busy chatting to notice their conversation. “Doesn’t Pan already have a heart?”

Felix looks like he is about to answer that one.

“Don’t answer that.” Will quickly retreats. “If he did, he certainly has a weird way of showing it.” Felix shakes his head and ties the knot on the end of the gauze. “You ever going to tell me how you got that scar?” Will challenges.

Felix looks up at him, hands on his knees. He looks around for a moment, as if making sure Pan is nowhere near him. Foolish, Will thought.

Felix doesn’t answer that one either.

“What did you ask about?” Will asks lowly, “I mean- I don’t want that happening to me so I’d rather know what not to ask y'know-”

“I knew not to ask.” Felix suddenly snapped. “But I did anyway. I was worried about her.”

Will’s gaze darkened. “About who? Tinkerbell?”

Felix shakes his head and stands. Will grapes his wrist with a free hand. Felix tears it away and some boys look their way, waiting for a commotion to start.

Felix steps forward, close enough to practically kiss him. Will’s eyes widen, but freeze, waiting or his answer.

“Think about it.” Felix pleads.

And suddenly it hits him as Felix walks away, back up to Pan’s treehouse. Will’s ice blue eyes cast up to watch Pan’s silhouette watch over the boys with a curtain held open by his hand. Once the locked eyes, the curtain swung shut. A sinking feeling ached in the pit of Will’s stomach, reminding him of where he actually was.

Hell.

🟈🟈🟈

Neverland 1904

Wendy’s voice was as soft as a voice and twice and white. For a 16-year-old girl, she looked on the younger side. Her soft curls hanging over her ivory face, her soft hand brushes Devin’s as he lays in bed.

As she sang, Devin drifted off to sleep. Wendy would never admit it out loud, but Devin looked awfully like her brother, Micheal. His soft brown locks over his thick eyelashes. A soft bronze of blush creeping across his cheeks every time her knuckle drifted across them.

Once Wendy’s song came to a close, she heard Devin’s soft snoring. She smiled with exhaustion. Once she crosses the room to exit the treehouse, she looked back at the sleeping boy, feeling tears swell in her eyes.

She missed her brothers.

She met Pan in his bedroom a few minutes sooner. Pan was sat in his desk, busy scribbling away on sheets of paper. Wendy doesn’t speak as she approaches him. Her hands hold his shoulders to gently snap him out of his working trance. He looks up at her and smiles tiredly. She smiles back and presses her forehead to his.

Pan’s hands drift into her hair and brush out her curls, similar to how her mother used to when she was comforting her from a thunderstorm. She realized in that moment that she would always grow scared of thunderstorms. As long as she stayed with Pan.

The strawberry blonde pulled away, leaving the green-eyed boy lost and confused. The girl’s gentle blue dress turns, her back to him as she raised out of his chair. He approached her with careful kindness, his fingers tips slowly interlocking with her from behind.

Her head leans back onto his chest as quiet tears stream down her rosy cheeks.

“I want to go home, Pan.” She pleaded.

Oan heard those words before. He smiled, brushing it off as he usually did. “You are home.”

Wendy turns and gently cups his cheek. “Not here.” She spoke. “Not now.”

“What are you talking about?” Pan’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t understand, I thought you loved it here.”

Wendy smiled softly. “Oh Peter,” There it was again, her soft cadence. “Nothing lasts forever.”

Pan’s chin tilts up as he realizes she's serious. Who was he to deny her of her freedom? Wendy’s lips meet his in a soft moment. Pan grips her, a silent display through his palms. Please, they say, don’t leave me here.

“I love you, Peter.” She says her breath still on his lips. She pulls back and holds his face, watching his tears fall. “And if you love me too, you will let me go.”

🟈🟈🟈

Neverland 2023

“Do you know what your problem is?” Sandesh says.

Looking directly across from this boy, Will can really study him without coming across as strange. His warm caramel skin blazed in the hot Neverland sun, always glowing and spotless. His sharp, dark eyes piercing down at you with his thick, boxy eyebrows. His chin is defined and square, but his face is round. His hair was kept short with tight coils unlike Will’s which was wavy and long. This motherfucker always had a frown on his face. He always had something to say.

“What?” Will replied coldly. The time has already started, and they were sitting across from one another, the light through Will’s window glaring onto the side of the white boy's face. Sandesh was casted into the shadows.

“You want to pretend like you're a good guy.” Sandesh said. “You want to pretend that you're some savior, who can’t live knowing that someone close to you somewhere is hurting. That you always have to save ‘em.” Sandesh leans close, his eyes starring daggers into Wills. “Well, you can’t. And you know damn well you can’t. But you sit here pretending you care. Pretending you care about your family. Pretending to care about this island. About Devin, about Jared, about Blake. “His voice is sharp when it ends on Will’s better friend.

“That’s not true.” Will shakes his head and smiles. “I do care. Your probably just jealous because Blake has another good friend. One that's better than you.”

“There's your ego.” Sandesh chuckles, leaning back into his chair. “And that's how you deflect. That’s how you defend yourself. I get it. I do the same fuckin’ thing, but here is the reality of guys like us, Will. We are pieces of shit. We pull people in to get them to like us, only to leave them when they do. Leave ‘em when they need us. Just like you did to your sisters.”

“I didn’t choose to leave them.” Will almost snaps, clenching his jaw.

“Soft spot, huh?” Sandesh’s lip quirks up. “You miss them? Heard you talking about it with Jared. Wonder how their doing now. Do you think they are thriving without their precious brother to take care of them?”

Will doesn’t respond to that and abruptly remembers the name of the game. Don’t snap. Emotional control.

Sandesh stands up and reels down to get into his face. “But you don’t care, do ya? Your just happy to get away from them. They are just burdens to you, huh? Baggage on your shoulder. And what about your mother? Where was she?”

Will doesn’t answer, looking off at the window, his nails digging into his fist. Maybe if he drowns out his voice he could make it. Something about this boy, something was right. He knows him a little too well. It’s like…

“Oh…” Sandesh’s smile drops. A face of pity rises. “She wasn’t there was she?”

Will looks over at Sandesh, a vein protruding through his temple. Sandesh’s hands grip the arm rests, his mouth whispering into Will’s ear.

“If she died…” Sandesh said.

Will shuts his eyes.

“...would you miss her?”

Sandesh knows him too well. Knows his pain too well. Will doesn’t move. Frustrated, Sandesh rises and sits back down with a thud. Will suddenly smiles, sucking in his lips to hide it. His hand covering his face.

“The fuck is so funny?” Sandesh snarls.

All at once, Will giggles, setting down his hand on the same armrest Sandesh put his hand on. He caresses it, as if he could still feel the heat from his palms just moments ago.

Sandesh’s eyebrows furrow is confusion. “What?!” He shouts.

Will drops his smile and looks at Sandesh. Really looks at him. His chin tils up as his lips part.

“I can’t imagine how that could have felt.” Will said honestly. “Losing someone that close to me.”

Sandesh’s face drops.

“Does it haunt you?” The white boy asks. “Do you blame yourself? Do you tell yourself that you don't miss her?” He leans in, elbows on his knees. “Because you can. You don’t need to be strong. That was your mom's job. Not yours.”

Sandesh doesn’t have a lot of emotion on his face. Mainly just… anguish.

“I miss my mom.” Will said.

“She isn’t dead.”

Will shook his head. “She’s not. But she could be anytime. Every pill. Every shard of broken glass. Every cigarette drag. Every drink. Every bruise from her husband. Every night driving alone, smoking meth, getting high- I wouldn’t be surprised if I got that phone call.” Will leaned back, crossing his legs. He watched Sandesh’s eyes swell with tears. “I didn’t lose my mom, I just realized I never had one. “

Suddenly, Sandesh shot up from his chair, wiped his tears, and started for the door.

“Hey.” Will commanded. Sandesh turned, hand on the knob. His eyes were red and clouded. “It’s like you said. I get it. But here is the reality of guys like us, Sandesh. We're not alone. And neither are you.”

Sandesh pauses, looking off before shutting the door behind him. Will listens to each footstep down his ladder. He takes a deep breath and stands up. Crossing his room, he opens his curtains and looks down at camp. Sandesh shoves past Blake, who looks at him like he’s crazy. Blakes dark eyes spear up to Will’s.

“Impressive.” A voice behind him says.

Will startles, switching behind him. “Jesus!”

Pan steps out the shadows and into the light of the window. “Deflecting Sandesh’s trauma back onto him? I wouldn’t have expected that from you. But then again…” Pan’s eyes quickly reflect on Will’s whole body, sizing him up. “...you are full of surprises.”

Will bites his tongue before saying something stupid. He shrugs and turns for his side table, opening it. “Well, it’s more of observation than it is deflection.”

Pan notes that and looks out the window at Blake, who is stomping toward Will’s treehouse from across the camp. “Your ten minutes are up.” The green-eyed boy says. Will sighs and shuts his drawer, eyeing the exit. “How is your mother?” Pan asks abruptly, a smirk on his face.

Will freezes, his eyes darting over to Pan’s. “How would I know?”

Pan shrugs. “How do you think shes doing? My guess is not so good without her star babysitter.” Will’s nostrils flare but he keeps a cool head. Pan crosses over to him, his boots knocking against the hardwood.

“Very funny.” Will says monotonically. “While we are on the subject, why do I remember my family and the other boys don’t?”

“They know what I tell them.” Pan smiles. “I tell them what I’m told.”

“By who?” Will wastes no time.

“No-one for you to know.”

“How old are you?” Will asks, surprises Pan who stops in his tracks. “Cause your acting like your 12.”

Pan doesn’t laugh. His eyes darken. “You know what else I was told?”

“Enlighten me.”

“To keep you alive.”

“Bummer.” Will says with missing a beat. “I was planning on killing myself.”

Pan matches his energy. “I bet your sisters would miss you.”

That’s where it hits. Will’s jaw clenches and his voice rises, stepping forward. “Just because I took what pathetic dish Sandesh served me, doesn’t mean I will take any bullshit from your meritless mouth.” Pan doesn’t move, a smile creeping up as Will inches closer. ”After I’m done with these challenges, I’ll show you can I can really do.”

Pan meets him halfway, a merciless size up for dominance. “You promise?” He says with saccharine.

Suddenly, the door swings open and Blake roars through it. Will’s head snaps to the side in surprise.

“What the fuck did you do?!” The black-haired boy shouts.

Will turns where Pan was standing, only to be met with empty air.

🟈🟈🟈

Neverland 1911

Wendy never went home. She dress is torn up and muddy as she lays in a thorning cage, lifted up above a field of dreamshade. Her once soft blonde hair turned unwashed and brown. Her curls turned natty. Her voice was gone from screaming. She was done screaming. Now? She lay on the floor of her cage, cradling her stomach in ache. She has refused any food Pan has given her. Shes afraid it’s poisoned. He has poisoned her before. Her once rosy cheeks were now dull and hollow, her eyes heavy with weak exhaustion.

Suddenly, a rumbling came from the bushes. Wendy was too weak to be startled she knew who it was.

“You need to eat, Wendy.” Pan’s voice was rougher, crueler. Gone was the boy who held her tight at night, who danced with her around firepits. All that was left was this hollow boy. A dictator. A villain. Wendy couldn’t help but blame herself for that ending.

When no answer came, Pan rolled his eyes. Felix approached him from behind. Felix’s face was clear, no scar had appeared yet.

“Pull her down.” Pan ordered.

Felix nodded obediently.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, the door swings open and Blake roars through it. Will’s head snaps to the side in surprise.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

Will turns where Pan was standing, only to be met with empty air. Blake’s eyes were full or rage and discernment. Will could look into them for hours if he’d let him. Whenever they met him, they were soft, open, and kind. The crimson brown smiling at him from across the fire pit, light as a feather brushing across your bare skin, a quiet flirt.

Now they stare back at him with fury and pain, his dark eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes narrow and cold. It startled Will.

“I won.” Will shrugged in defense, stepping back further into his room.

Blake shut his front door with a back hand and stomp toward him. A strong hand gripped his shoulder and pressed into tense muscle. Blake looked him i confusion. “Sandesh just left your treehouse with tears in his eyes. He doesn’t cry- what did you say to him?”

“We talked about me. He’s just pissy he couldn’t get to me.”

Blake and Sandesh have always been close since Blake arrived on the island. Sandesh practically adopted him into a friendship. The two blended perfectly like paint and water. Typically, Sandesh comes off as gasoline, toxic and dense. Blake thins him out and holds him at bay. When Sandesh pushed him aside after exiting Will’s treehouse, Blake turned into what other view him to be. Fire.

With strength no man could comprehend, Blake pushed Will’s built body into the wooden wall. Picture frames fell and the room shook as sharp nails dug into Will’s sculpted back. Blakes forearm was half below the white boy’s chin. Ocean eyes exploded in shock, teeth gritted as Will fought back and failed to keep the Hispanic off of him.

“¡Mentiras!” He said, inches from the boy's face. Do these boys know nothing of personal space? “Cabrón, hijo de perro- Do you think just because you hold the heart of the truest believer that you can treat us like shit? Treat us like Pan does?!”

Will couldn’t make out of the Spanish, but he did pick up a word like, Scumbag. Will continued to push back on him. “Of course not! We talked about our mother’s and family, and he got offended and-” He coughed out, air leaving him. “-I told him that I’m here for him.”

Blake stepped back and watched Will tremble slightly, knee’s buckling. Once the brown-haired boy caught his breath, Blake spoke up. “I’m sorry. I thought-”

“No-” Will said, massaging his probably bruising neck. “I get it. I would do the same thing.”

Blake suddenly had a pit of guilt deep in his stomach. The silence rumbled as Blake took his place beside Will on his bed. He could hear the faint whisper of the trees and their leaves growing and blowing around them. The faint whistle of air between windowpanes.

“Did he tell you about her?” Will asked, his eyes scanning the space between their laps.

Blake shook his head. “Not much about her. I assumed they had a though relationship.” They locked eyes once more, Will drowning inside like a man swimming toward the surface. He couldn’t reach the surface; he couldn’t reach his air. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe when Blake playfully pushed him an inch with his shoulder. “You're not the only one here with family issues. My guess is that’s why we are here.”

Their shoulders never left each other. “So, this is some kind of camp for…” Pan’s words echo in Will’s head. “Lonely boys?”

Blake shrugs. “I don’ know about you, but I’m a lot happier.”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

Will’s eyebrows furrow as he rises from the bed. Blake watches him. “I mean- you don’t remember your life, so how can you deduct that this shit hole is better?” Will turns to Blake, a foot away.

Blake looks up at him with those same sad eyes. “What do you think?”

Will looks like he’s about to answer, his jaw left open, and tongue left numb with empty air. Blake rises from his seat next, taking a step forward. Will let’s him as his mouth shuts.

“P-parts of it…” Will stumbles out.

Blake takes another step. “Which parts?”

Will’s eyes fumble to stay anywhere but on Blake. His feet were pressed so firmly against the wooden ground, he could feel the small splinters creating small crevices into his skin. Focus, he told himself. And don’t think about the way he smells. The way he looks at you with those eyes. Those damn eyes.

Another step.

“Some boys are nicer than others…” Will mumbles under his breath, eyes captured on the boy ahead. The sun is captured over the pane and let’s Blake skin glow a beautiful golden. Did he wash his face? Will searched for stains, for dirt, for flaws. He couldn’t find any. He couldn’t find any. He couldn’t find a reason to not look at him.

A foot stumbles back, caught on wood. Blakes hand reaches out for the white wrist, pulling him back toward him. Don’t go away, his hands beg. Don’t leave. Not now.

Another step, a half planted between feet. The hand travels over his forearms and grips his shoulder. Eyes flutter shut as Will’s back aches. Why did it hurt to stand? Why were his knees weak? God, he could collapse onto him if he didn’t hold himself up. Something in Blakes eyes pleaded him to. Begged him to fall onto him. Pin him to the bed, hold him, kiss him.

“Jesus…” Will whispered, a hand flying into Blake’s hair and pressing his lips to his.

Somebody wake him up. Somebody walk in. Somebody stop him. Blakes fingertips press harder into Will’s shoulder as he meets his ferocity. The secondhand snakes it way around Will’s thin waist, and there he meets that indescribably strength once more.

Feet stumble back as Blakes claves meet the cold sheet of Will’s bed. Neither one falls back, a silent ask, a question without an answer. Only met with their heat between mouths and saliva coating their lips.

Will was the first to pull away, pressing his forehead against Blake’s. Their mouths huffing the same hot breath. In and out. Out and in.

“Will…” Blake’s voice trembles.

“This isn’t a good idea...” He says to Blake. “-we shouldn’t...” He mumbles between Blake’s lips. “We can’t…” He can’t talk, his face hot and sweaty. Jesus, he needed air. He needed a lot. The line between want and need blurred when Will pulled himself away and crossed for the front door.

Boys holler him down. This path seemed different. The path back down to camp, like he was walking to a trap, walking into hell. Maybe if he turned around, they wouldn’t notice. Will tried his best to conceal his red face, dishevled hair, and trembling breath.

“You look like you just ran a marathon.” Jared chuckled, approaching the boy first. Jared had his signature animal skin cloak on, hands black and tarred up from the fire.

“And then some.” Will agreed, looking past the strong buy into the small crowd of the rest.

“Where’s Blake?” Sandesh suddenly peered up from over by the firepit. The sun as begun to set, and it was almost time for dinner. Gone was the glaring sun through the leaves of the trees. The one thing Will could appreciate about his island, the trees and their branches acted as a blanket to conceal the sun from burning and blistering their skin.

Will’s hands run through his own hair, detangling it. Will cleared his throat. “He and I kind of got into it.”

“Had a row, did you?” Jah’sir smirked, sitting beside Devin. Sandesh sat looking guilty, thinking he might have caused it.

Will caught this within a moment. “We’re good now.”

“Good, because we’re hungry.” Jared said, slapping his shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

Suddenly, Sandesh rose from the log and started toward Will’s treehouse ladder. “I’m going to go check on Blake.”

Will froze in shock and a shout yelped from his mouth. “No!” He spoke. Eyes startle around him and lock on the two boys. “I mean- he’ll be down soon, I’m sure.”

In the same second, the sound of a door slamming shut snapped the boy's attention up to Will’s treehouse to see Blake exiting Will’s tree house.

Jared kept his smile at bay. “Hope Will didn’t dig into you too much, eh?”

Blake’s face reddened with embarrassment as he chuckled. “What?”

Will quickly jumped in. “Shut up, Jared.”

The three boys walked back closer to the fire and sat around the pit.

“What were you fighting about?” Devin abruptly chimed in.

Blake’s eyes met Will’s across the flames. Typically, he sat next to him, but the shame was too thick tonight.

“Pan.” Blake said.

“Nothing.” Will quickly followed. The boy's eyes widen, a few laughs in disbelief. Will glares at him. What the fuck? Pan? Seriously?

“What about Pan?” The familiar accent chimes behind them all.

All the boy startle back, catching Pan behind them all.

“Nothing.” Blake repeated quickly, stiffening his posture. “We were just wondering when you were coming down for dinner.”

Pan’s eyebrow raises as he approaches Blake like a predator on its prey. “That’s not nothing.” The boy smirked, eyes catching back at Will. “Where were you too?”

Don’t let him see it, Will pleaded to no-one in particular. “Just talking in my treehouse.”

“For an hour?” Pan’s eyebrows, not buying it. He steps in front of Will, towering over the siting boy.

“They were fighting.” Devin snitches, eyes locked inside his journal.

“Devin!” Jared shouted.

“What?”

Pan didn’t seem to hear him, his eyes narrowing down to Will, who met him halfway with the same fiery glare. “It’s nothing.” There it was. The Will everyone knew. The one who talked back to Pan.

The green-eyed boy frowned. “We will talk about…” His voice was low and barely a whisper, a silent command only for Will to hear. “This… later.”

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” Will snapped back, loud enough for the boys to hear. “Won’t be the first time we ‘talk’.”

This amuses Pan, a smile creeping onto his mouth. He turns toward the rest of the boys with his signature smile and says, “Who’s hungry?”

🟈🟈🟈

This would be the second time Will stood inside Pan’s treehouse. Here, nobody would dare walk in, interrupt, at least without knocking. All the boys knew he was in trouble with him, but they didn’t fully understand why. What they did understand was that Will had a way of pissing Pan off that no other boy could.

The shorter boy’s shoulders were broad and full of confidence only a God could wear. The way they swung as Pan paced his room, as casual as could be but as stiff as an angry father disciplining his child. The air smelled thick of wood and the natural scent of Pan. It was the kind of smell you could never pinpoint on a single person. Will would never admit it out loud, but he didn’t mind the musk of it.

Will’s eyes wandered round as Pan’s mouth blabbed on about the intimate moment he shared with Blake, which was of least importance to Will right now. All he cared for, was finding pixie dust.

As Pan lectured him, the green eyes watched as Will looked around the cluttered room, analyzing the old furniture, faded tapestry, and dusty shelves filled with bottles of liquid, surely not alcohol, and smaller jars of ground up powders like an old Italian woman would have of seasons and spices.

“Are you listening to me?” Pan asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah…” Will wasn’t listening, eyes still fixed on the room. It looked different the last time he entered it. Perhaps he tidied up? But then again, if this was his version of tidying up, Will would laugh out loud. “How can you live like this? I mean- it’s trashed in here!”

Pan’s eye twitched in annoyance. The sheer audacity of this boy. When Pan stepped forward, Will’s eyes quickly snapped on him.

“Yes, let’s get it over with.” Will sighed, an amused frown on his face. “Perhaps I can speed up the process with more insults? Do you struggle to keep other boys in line like this? I mean the rest of them are terrified of you, but I see nothing but a bratty teenager who hate no getting his way.”

Pan, a foot away from him now, said nothing. Finally beat, his chin raises as he realizes slowly. He’s right. Even if it wasn’t entirely true, he was acting like that. “If you going to lead with me, you can't act like this.” Pan argued back.

“I never agreed to lead with you.” Will shook his head. “I barely agreed to give you half my heart.”

“Being the boy you are comes with an obligation of authority.” Pan said, clearly unamused with the back-handed comment.

“I don’t want to tell these boys what to do.” Will rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to drag a finger over a shelve, picking up a soft plow of dust.

“What do you want?” Pan asked, gently curious. Will’s neck turned to the side as he gave him a knowing look. Pan returned it.

The taller boy sighed and turned back to Pan. “I want to show these boys that there's more the life than whatever this hell is. They deserve it. All of them do. I talked to Sandesh, found that we have more in common than I could have ever thought. And if Sandesh’s experience with his family is anything lie the rest of the boys, they deserve more than some boy their age telling them what to do. They need to live. Not be scared to break rules. That’s what being free is.” Will stepped forward, asserting dominance with his eyes. “If this island is anything like you say it is, you… you should be the first one to understand what I’m talking about.”

Pan snarled at him. How could this boy read him like that? He detested the shadow for demanding he be kept alive. Alas, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t hit him. Pan stays his ground and listens more.

“I told you that after I’m done with these challenges, I’ll show you can I can really do.” Will said earnestly. His face crumbling. “I tend on keeping that promise. There's not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

Pan’s head clicked to the right with a smile. “I hope you do. But let me remind you of who the boys are loyal to. It’s not you. This little play crush Blake has on you won’t last. He answers to me, and if it took you this long to know that much, you are not as impressive as I gathered you are.”

Will’s heart strung out of his chest. Did he really care that much about Blake? “He’s my friend.” He voices back.

“Seems he thinks it’s far more than platonic, Will.” Pan crosses over to his door and opens it, gesturing for the taller boy to exit. “I suggest you nip his little fantasy in the bud.”

Will’s eye shut in exhaustion hearing it out loud. With everything that happened within a 24-hour period, all he wanted was to fall back asleep. Stepping toward the door, he stopped in the frame, gazing up at Pan. He held his intense glaring look. Will looked deep into them, searching for any humanity behind them he could. Nothing could be found.

“Goodnight.” He heard Pan mumble under his breath as he stepped out. Then came the door shutting behind him.

With an ache in his stomach, he smiled. He spotted the pocket of pixie dust.

The firepit was lively tonight. Crossing the bridge between treehouses, he could spot Blake and Sandesh messing around, smiling, and laughing. Suddenly, Blake’s eye spot Will from above. He smiles, but quickly drops it when he spots the unemotional look Will held.

The fire light couldn’t reach his face from up there, but he knew Blake could see it. The Hispanic boy face riddled with anguish. Will couldn’t bear to look any longer, crossing the rest of the way over the bridge to his own treehouse.

Alone he entered, and alone he slept. Or at last, pretended to. His pillow was warm when he flipped it over. He couldn’t get Pan’s word out of his head. He turned to the other side of his bed, away from the window.

Claire lay sleeping beside him. She looked happier. Gone was the sweat and frown. She looked like a sleeping angel sent by the heavens. Will gently caressed her soft cheek. Her hair has gotten longer, he imagined. What he couldn’t imagine was why she was happier.

Somehow, it comforted him enough to send him off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Will’s fingertips curl in unconscious relaxation. The bed he lays on is warm with his body, and yet shivers run down his spine. Air sneaks through a cracked window wand leaves his hair spiked and goosebumps traveling down his bare chest. Down between his pectorals, shifting around his stomach until it’s blocked by a thick gauze bandage stuck to his right abdomen.

His face is bruised with one fierce cut crossing over his cheek. It will scar. His curled fingertips twitch as he wakes from his sleep. Under his nails, hides brown blood that has dried up and chipped away underneath the tissue.

Will’s fingers curl around the arrow, bringing it back near his nose. His feet are planted around a thick tree branch suspended 15 feet in the air. His cheek moves over the trunk that hid his body from Blake.

ZIP

An arrow flies back and nicks Will across the face.

“Gah!” He exclaims.

Crimson sinks out and bleeds down his cheekbone. He retracts the arrow and wipes it clean. Gazing down at his glove, his eyes widen in fear.

Blood. Another arrow zips past him, hitting a tree branch a few inches away. He needed to move. He set the arrow away and ran across the branch like a tightrope walker. Leaping from branch to branch, he gripped one branch to another. He moved with exact precision and muscle memory. Blake wasn’t shooting, keeping up a few trees behind. Will was a few branches lower than him, which granted him the high ground. He watched Will leap from tree to tree like cars past the window. Like stop motion footage running on a lower speed. With every trunk passed, the closer he got. Until abruptly, he never crosses a single one. Blake’s eyes widen in confusion. He was climbing so fast, how could he just stop? Did he fall? No, he would have heard it. Blake lays his back against the tree, letting himself become invisible against the bark.

Blake sits beside him, watching him carefully rise from his slumber, a face of grief washing over his face. He’s been asleep for the whole day, and a few of the boys wondered if he would still be able to fight Jared.

Busy at work, Blake dunks the cloth back under red stained water and brings it to his cut under his eye. He flinches his face away from the cool water. Blake blamed himself for the state he was in. While Will did win, he didn’t stand unharmed.

Will’s face coiled back to the cloth, knowing the wound needs to be kept clean.

“I’m sorry…” Blake whispered to him. Will’s lip down in a deep frown as his ice eyes open, locking with Blake.

“For hurting me?” Will mumbles back. His voice was low and rumbled under breath. The cadence alien could bring kings to their knees. “...or kissing me?”

Blake dropped the cloth gently back into the bucket. He avoids the wounded boy’s gaze. “Both… perhaps. If I need to be forgiven.”

Will takes his avoidance and raises his chin back up in the air. “I kissed you first.”

“Then you pushed me away.” Blake mumbled. This caught Will’s attention. He thought about the feeling of Blake’s lips on his and closed his eyes.

Blake’s eyes were focused and furrowed. This would mark the turning point of the games. Sure, he beat Devin in a childish game of tag, and he could handle his emotions in an argument. But could he wield a bow like Blake could? God, Blake’s thoughts traveled to moments after Will won against Sandesh. For a moment, it distracted him long enough for an arrow aimed above him to slip away from fingers and zip past Blake’s cheek.

Blake exclaimed in pain and turned his head to see Will, who seemingly crossed over to his aisle of trees smiling and running down his trunk, away into the maze of wood.

Blake grunted in frustration. That tease.

Another arrow was shot at Will, flying past his back. Blake was getting sloppy. He was frustrated. Will smirked to himself and let himself slide down the tree.

Another arrow. He ran in a quick zig ag, dodging past any arrows until Blake chased him down onto the ground. Will was faster on the ground, and if he wanted to keep up, he would have to run with him.

Will spotted a rock and spotted an idea. He ran toward it and leaped from the sharp edge and swung himself onto a branch. He had the high ground now.

Cocky, he whipped around, and shot and arrow behind him.

Suddenly, he heard a low scream of pain. He turned around a second time to see Blake, hunched over on the ground. He hit him. Oh god, he hit him.

Before setting out, Pan instructed they both wear thick chest guards to protect their vital organs from getting hit. Will, with his luck, hit Blake in the shoulder.

It was over. He won.

“Holy shit.” Will eyes widen in fear. Oh god. He ran back to him, watching in seconds as Blake used his last strength and last moment of anger to grab an arrow from his back and lunge it toward Will. The thick obsidian arrowhead, and the closeness of the throw must have been enough force. The arrow pierced through Will’s shirt, through his leather chest cage, and into his abdomen.

Blake’s face suddenly turned sour. “I can’t believe you got me.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“No, I said I was sorry.” Blake snapped. “You fucked my shoulder, Will. My shooting shoulders!”

Will’s eyes open and snap at Blake. “You knew the risks.”

“Did you know the risk of kissing me?” Blake eyes fill with tears, quickly looking away in shame.

“I needed to.” Will confessed.

Blake’s eyes turn hopeful, looking back onto Will. His voice breaks, as Blake watches a tear stream down his temple. Earnestly, he says, “But it’s not you I need.”

Blake’s heart shatters but stays calm with the pain. “What do you need?”

Will doesn’t miss a beat. “I need to go home.”

Blake’s eyes shut. The final blow. The last Jenga piece taken out for the rest of the tower to fall. “You should have aimed from my heart.” He mumbled, loud enough for Will t hear. To this day, Will isn’t sure if it was meant for him to hear. Blake raises himself off of the stool and grabs the bucket. Will watches him leave. As Blake’s hand reaches for the knob, he turns and says, “Between you and me, you need this island more.”

Will listens to the door slam shut.

🟈🟈🟈

“Walk me through it,” Devin said, leaning against Will’s dresser. “One more time.”

Will groaned and threw his head against his pillow. “Break into Pan’s treehouse, get the pixie dust. Find Tinkerbell so she can help us find a way into Dark Hollow and get a shadow to fly us out of here.”

Devin ponders this, his eyes focused on his journal that sat on Will’s bed, open and exposed. Vulnerable. “You really want to do this?” he asks.

“What do I got to lose?” Will huffs, arching himself up, despite the thick bandage on his exposed abdomen.

“Your life.” Devin mumbled.

“Oh please,” Will rolls his eyes. “Pan needs me alive to save this island.”

Devin crosses over to Will’s bed and snatches the journal off the duvet. “Just because he needs you alive doesn’t mean he won’t make sure every minute is pain.”

Will thinks about this for a moment, swinging his knees over the edge. “I could threaten to kill myself.” He half-joked.

Devin doesn’t find it funny, in fact, he shuts his eyes and turns to the window. Silence finds them and cascades over the air. Will accepts defeat and watches Devin turn for him.

“You know,” he says. “He wasn’t always this way.”

“So, I’ve heard.” Will presses his lips together in thought. “Any idea why?”

Devin scoffs out a laugh and settles on the bed, crossing his legs. “Could be a number of things. But I saw the most change after Wendy.”

“After Wendy,” Will repeated. “I keep hearing about her. Whatever happened to her?”

“He doesn’t like talking about it.” Devin shook his head.

“I’ve gathered as much.”

“I mean-” The younger said. “He was in love with her.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Will followed Devin and crossed his legs on the bed, gently soothing his sore abs through the adjustment. “Did she escape?” Devin went quiet. “Why are you guys so scared of talking about her?”

Devin shrugged. “Some of us are scared of what Pan might do.” Devin’s trailed slower, his eyes wandering around to look at nothing in particular. “Some of us just... miss her.”

The idea of Pan with someone, someone kind, patient, someone who left such a positive impact on these boys, it felt like taboo to picture Pan happy with her. “What were they like?” Will asked curiously.

“He smiled a lot more.” Devin answered. “She lit up rooms she was in, bringing laughter around her. She brought this sort of softness to the boys. There were only a few of us. We didn’t worry much about the pirates then. Tinkerbell was around more often, so was Pan. He would joke more. We could laugh more.” Devin’s eyes swipe to Will. “I think the boys… all of us are kind of hopeful you’ll take her place, y'know? Fill her shoes. Make the island lighter. I mean- you already have. She tested him the way you do. Oh my gosh, this one time- a few of the guys and I snuck out and when we got back, he was dancing with her around the firepit. Now I kind of find it romantic, but we poked fun at him for it.” Devin’s rambling suddenly shifted into a slower pace. “I miss that. Some boys think he killed her, y'know? I mean- he was obsessed with her and when she told him that she missed her brothers-”

He stopped, realizing he had gone too far.

“Well, I guess it’s for him to tell you.” Devin’s frown turned into a nervous smile.

Will couldn’t find the right words to use, and if he could thy were spurted out in a series of incoherently cut off words. He paused and settled on, “How long have you been here?”

Devin’s face softens. “I was the first boy here.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Before Felix? I reckoned he was the first.”

Devin chuckled. “Nah. First there was me. Then Felix came. He and Pan had more in common. He was eager to follow him. Then came Jah’sir, he spoke little no English. He knew French though. Then Sandesh. Then Jared, he quickly became popular with us. Blake came quickly after that. “

“What year was that?” Will asked. “When you arrived?”

“Not sure,” Devin shrugged. “I remember bits and pieces of my past life. All the boys the same. Time works differently, and with time comes more memories. Memories replacing old ones. So much until all you know is the island.”

Will nodded, focusing. “I hate to press-”

“I remember one thing.” Devin interrupted. “I remember there was a lot of death around me. Something about a religious movement which thousands, including many children and young people died.”

“That really narrows it down,” Will scoffed.

Devin’s thought for a moment. “People would hide me. I saw one man with these black spots and this thick green ooze that poured out of his skin. That, you can't forget."

Will gasped. “The Black Plague?"

“Is that what they called it?” Devin sounded unenthusiastic.

Will paused for a moment and thought back to history classes he skipped so many times. His face dropped and turned back to Devin, who looked at him with hopeful eyes. “13… Devin.”

“13… what?” Devin didn’t seem to catch his drift.

Will swallowed. “You’ve been here… since the 1300's?”

Devin looked off. “I suppose. Why?”

Will suddenly felt sick. “How long could you estimate you’ve been here?

Devin shrugged. “A few years I suppose.”

“How many?!”

Devin pushed back. “Gosh- I don’t know!”

“Guess.”

“What?”

“Fuck, Devin!” Will jumped out of his bed and paced his floor. “Give me a number!”

Devin thought rapidly. “Okay, uhm… 10?”

Will’s eyes widened. “10?! Are you mad?!” Will’s vision blurred. “I need to sit down.”

“I don’t understand!” Devin protested. “You asked me to tell you!”

Will’s back hit the wall as he slid down to the wall. He couldn’t hear Devin shouting for him. Ringing increasing louder in his ears. His palms ached and shook cold. Devin ran toward him as Will curled in on his stomach.

“Devin...” Will groaned.

“What!?”

Will’s eyes tear up, realization hitting him “It’s 2021.”

It was Devin’s turn to look like he just saw his own death. Time did work differently here, and Pan was keeping all of them prisoner. Prisoner from maturing, growing up, knowing better. Devin slipped beside him and started to cry. It came out soft and silent, then came the storm. Will watched him scream and cry and held an arm around his shoulder. This poor boy looked merely 14, but was older than every single boy on the island.

“We're going to get out of here.” Will promised. “Away from Pan. Away from Neverland. We are going to find a good shelter, change our names, change our lives, and start over.”

“What would we do?” Devin’s voice cracked and ached. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, Devin.” Will pressed his head into Devin’s. “I don’t know right now. All I know is that we need to get out of here.”

Devin collapsed into him, wrapping his arms around him, Will held him tightly. Not too dissimilar to a parent holding their child. “I want to go home.”

“We will.” Will promised into 700-year-old brown hair. “We are going home.”

Chapter Text

So, I beat Jared.

It was easier this time, it seemed every time I fought I got smarter, and I learned people's moves. Jared liked to play on the offensive side and loved to use his upper body strength to lift people up and pin them down. What he always left unguarded was his feet.

Kicking them under, I pinned him into a headlock and held it for a few seconds until Pan commanded, we let each other go. He scolded Jared for his poor fighting and ordered that he train on the defensive.

When Pan’s eyes met mine they held something different than after I beat Devin. He looked surprised and excited, and some deep part of him looked scared. The boys shared the same look. No boy has excelled like I have before. Must be all that magic heart stuff. Pan thought it fitting that he asserts his own dominance and try fighting me, no powers, and no tricks.

🟈🟈🟈

They stood in front of one another and raised the hilts of their blades to their armored chests indicating they were ready. The crowd of boys gathered around the circle and anticipation was reflected in their bright eyes. The atmosphere was charged with energy.

Will’s maize and Pan’s fiery eyes were locked on one another’s. After a moment they broke their gaze and sprang back from one another, their blades in their left hands. The two started to slowly circle, uncertain of who would make the first move.

Suddenly, Will lunged forward, clearing six feet in his bound, his blade directed right at Pan's center.  Pan raised his weapon and with a loud clang of metal, he directed Will's long blade upward and parried to the right.

Will's momentum carried him past Pan's body, but he didn't leave himself exposed. He quickly spun around, horizontally slicing his blade at Pan, who jumped backward, the tip of his opponent’s steel missing his chest by inches.  Pan locked eyes with Will, a seriousness on his face.

Pan brought his left hand across his body and leaped forward with a powerful right-to-left slice. Will’s vertical blade met Pan’s in the middle, bringing it to a stop, the impact reverberating through their hands and wrists. With their weapons in contact, the two stared intensely at one another.

Will then took the opportunity to shove forward into Pan, their shoulders meeting. Will, with all his strength then brought his blade down, the friction taking Pan’s blade with it. But Pan saw an opportunity. With both their blades pointing down at the ground and his slight height advantage over Will, he shoved forward, shoulder checking Will who stumbled backward.

Blake and Felix were watching with focus. “Come on Will…” Blake muttered under his breath. Sandesh heard his friend, and reached to set a hand on his shoulder, just as invested in Will’s success. They were probably the only member not rooting for Pan.

The two had exchanged more attacks and dodges, covering a wide area of the area, their footprints showing in the dampened soil. The boys were impressed with the fight, it being the highest caliber match they’d seen since Blake. But Blake and Jared were getting stressed. They had different skill sets, Will more offensive, Pan defensive, but the two were looked evenly matched without Pan’s power.

Will, breathing heavily and looking to end this, gripped his weapon with two hands raising it horizontally by the side of his face, the dark-colored blade inches from his cheek. He then sprang forward with a series of relentless, quietly delivered attacks, slice after slice, metal clang after clang as Pan’s blade met Will’s, only for Will to rip his weapon away and attack again.

Pan could not believe his ferocity and his skill. And Will let out barely a grunt, a couple of huffs of loud air was all. But Pan had skill too.

Pan, at the end of Will’s flurry rush, where he exhibited the slightest fatigue, parried right and as he did, grabbed Will’s left wrist with his right hand in an attempt to disarm him. It was a fluid and impressive.

The lost boys never seen Pan fight like this since the fight where Hook lost his hand.

Will, with Pan’s grip on him, exclaimed “Agh!” but twisted around in his wrist’s favor and then grabbed Pan’s weapon-wielding hand. Both boys were now face to face holding one another’s wrists, struggling to either escape from or disarm their opponent.

Murmurs of excitement and intrigue broke out throughout the crowd, Blake leaned further forward, his hand pressed into his knee. He glanced right and saw Felix in a similar position.

The two boys struggled and grunted for some moments until one of them did something unexpected. Will just dropped his blade into the ground, its heavy mountain steel sticking straight down into the slightly wet dirt, its hilt facing the sky. The decision mildly confused Pan who let him go thinking that he achieved a disarm, ready to bring his long blade to rest still on his armored chest and end the fight.

But Pan then did something even more unexpected. Before Will could bring his blade up, he took his hands, both now free, he grabbed Will’s long blade-wielding arm, a tight grip atop his gauntlets. He then twisted his body around, his chest facing Will’s front, nearly pressed into it, and with one quick push with his hands, he disarmed Pan, his long blade flying about four feet and hitting the ground.

The crowd gasped, stunned.

Pan, now holding Will’s wrist, then bent over and with all his strength, brought Will to the ground in one swift full-body motion, Will grunting in pain as his back hit the dirt.

I was seconds, but those were long enough for Will's eyes to snap open. His vison was still recovering but there was only one thing he could focus on. Pan. His dark hazel eyes, open with focus and a note of frustration. They softened, a few inches away from Will. He wasn't smiling. He looked tired. He looked on the brink of pain. Sweat beaded his forehead and glowed in the sun. He was shut out from the boys. This, was for him. He looked...

Ethereal.

Pan, sensing imminent victory, stood straight up, a satisfied grin on his face.

Will was stunned and in pain, but quickly gathered himself and leaned up to stand, but he stopped, his body braced back on his elbows. The point of a long blade was in his chest, stopping him from rising further.

The point of his own blade. Holding it was Pan, standing low over him in a wide stance.

Will’s jaw was slack, and he was breathing heavily. He looked up at Pan who had a neutral expression on his open-mouthed face. Nary a smile or a brow furrow. His chest was just rising and falling as fast as Will’s was.

The sun glared behind Pan and created a glowing halo around his shaggy chestnut hair.

Pan spoke in his deep and quiet voice, “Good job.”

Will clenched his teeth. “Yeah, you too,” he answered after a small sigh, his eyes were unable to hold Pan’s alluring gaze.

🟈🟈🟈

The same sun that glared behind Pan now is beading sweat on Will as he stood next to Jah’sir. Jah’sir is the tallest in the group, a whopping 6’5. Will liked to imagine he would dominate in the basketball court, however, by the way he held himself, he came from a different period.

A few yards ahead of them, stood two large poles, estimated around 20 feet in the air. Jared explained it was easier to trim these thick branches down than climbing an actual tree. Tree’s had different branches, and sometimes easier pathways to the top. Pan didn’t want to go easy on Will this time.

They took their position, hands pressed into the dry, hot dirt, one foot pedaled behind them in a runner's lunge. Pan and the rest of the boys stood on the side lines, crowding around the poles. Will’s eyes darted toward the dirty blonde, who’s eyes were just had incandescent as his. No sun hid behind this time. It cowered behind large pine trees that acted as a barrier between them and the blazing heat. Sunset was coming quickly.

Pan held up his hand in the air, and the air around them tensed with anticipation. It flew to the ground and the two boys took off toward the wooden pole.

Jah’sir was the first to make progress up the wood. Will, still struggling to keep his grip on the thick branch. Boys grew quiet as Jah’sir threw a hand up and gripped the wood, climbing another foot higher.

Will followed his act but found himself slipping and falling onto the dry dirt. Boys echoed with gasps and disappointment. He defied to get rid of his weight. He teared his leather shirt free from his body, leaving the sun to kiss his bandaged, contorted skin.

He tried again, leaping up. By this time, Jah’sir had made it halfway up the pole.

Boys hollered for Will to go faster. Will didn’t listen. He slowed himself down, dodging any possible mistake of slipping. His feet gripped around the wood and surely gave him splinters, but he didn’t care. His hands carried his wight and his wrist was screaming at him, throbbing in swollen pain, but he didn’t care. His abdomen was piercing with every crunch of his body, but he continued on.

He noticed Jah’sir obviously had the advantage of his height, but Will had something else. His strength. He used his feet to raise himself up another foot. Then another. Each second came with another foot. One miscalculated movement caused him to slip, but he gripped the wood for his life, not letting go, no matter how many thin pricks of wood plunged into his skin.

“Daddy’s home!” Claire called.

It was a dream he had.

Will scrambled to straighten the room up, unaware of the surprise visit. He quickly leaped for Claire and held her tight. She didn’t run toward the door like she used to. She hid herself in the crook oh his neck. Will watched as the knob squeaked and yanked back and forth, somebody trying to get inside.

Will tried to get to the furthest coroner from the door and watched with horror as it swung open, revealing a dark shadow of Claire’s father. The shadow turned when he entered, took one look at Will, who gripped Claire wildly, like a momma bear protecting her child.

He walked away from them, away from the living room and into the dark depths of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry for not listening,” He heard Claire cooed into his shoulder. He suddenly this was a dream. He woke up still feeling Claire holding him, only now left with warm sheets and cold pillows scattered around his mattress.

He gritted his teeth as a noise suppressed for years in his throat echoed out, a groan, a scream, or some uncalled-for animal erupting from his lips that he was possessed by for years. He didn’t watch Jah’sir anymore. He gripped higher and higher. His wrist numbed the pain, adrenaline in his veins.

The boys watched in awe as Will climbed higher than Jah’sir had until Will’s hand gripped the red cloth, the same red cloth used for Devin’s capture the flag game. When he saw he had a grip on it, he gave out.

His back hit the ground knocking the wind out of his lunges. His eyes roll back and render him unconscious, the red cloth tangled into his fingers.

🟈🟈🟈

The fire was brighter tonight. Perhaps it was the concussion surely throbbing in his skull. Devin assured him that he would feel better tomorrow.

Neverland always had colder nights, hence the firepit almost held every night. Tonight, Will sat in between Pan and Devin. Felix sat beside Pan, riddled in deep conversation with him. Will studied this group, alas, it would be the last night he spent on the island. Beside Felix sat Blake and Sandesh, goofing off as usual. Sandesh found some species of bug on a tree and decided he would make a torch with it, teasing Blake with it. Sandesh’s dark brown hair glowed in the firelight, his skin turning more golden than he could ever imagined. his smile lit up the mood, and he laugh echoed the camp. Blake, who was threatening to tackle Sandesh, looked as happy as he could be. His eyes sometimes found Will’s and looked back at Sandesh whenever they were caught.

Beside Sandesh, sat Jared, who was busy devouring his dinner. He and Sandesh looked so similar, both with dark skin and sort hair. Their only distinguishing feature was Jared’s short height and bigger frame. Jah’sir sat quietly as he usually did beside Devin, occasionally smiling at Will assuringly. Will favored the way Jah’s dreads hung over his eyes as he smiled.

HIs eyes landed on Devin, who’s pale finger was busy writing in his journal. Nobody really paid attention to what was marked inside. When Devin passed it to him, it read:

Pixie Dust

Underlined in ink. Will quickly understood and faked a yawn, pretending to head up to bed. A few of the boy’s bided him a goodnight. When Will’s eyes met Devin’s brown, he nodded.

“Goodnight.” He said to him. Get ready, his eyes told him.

“Goodnight.” Devin smiled up at him. I’ll meet you in the training grounds. Just like we planned.

Once Will shut his bedroom door behind him, he quickly grabbed his journal from under the sink, a knife in his drawer, and a few pieces of fruit he’s been smuggling from the past few days. It was followed by gauze, a brown bottle that Devin used on his wounds they repatched it, and his bow and arrow.

All in his satchel, he snuck out his back door, which leaded to the long bridges that connected all the treehouses from above the camp. Will quickly ran across the one that connected his to Felix’s. And then from there, he climbed the ladder to Pan’s treehouse.

Arrogant asshole HAD to have the tallest treehouse. Like some all-seeing eyes that watched them from above. The good thing about this was, the further from camp it was, the less noise you heard. Will used his lockpicking skills to unlock the door and step inside.

Instantly, he was met with an overwhelming aroma. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just an unexpected one. It was thick and homey. It smelled like basil, honey, and pine. The room was dark and crowded with candles blown out around desks and bedside tables. Although, he didn’t see a bed. Just a thick animal skin separating the rest of the room. Will followed it, pulling it back and slipping into the casted away area.

His bed was unmade, recently slept in, and there were papers and other miscellaneous items around his sheets.

Will made his way to the side of the bed, opening as many drawers as he could. The top right one held a few pieces of paper, a compas, and a map. The bottom right had a necklace, a knife, and what looked like a torn-up drawing of somebody. The top left had small container of liquid, pencils, a notebook and brush. He looked through the notebook and found many untitled pages and incoherent writings. Some were lists. Some were just questions. Some were pages on pages of the same phrase.

I am not alone, repeated on at least 4 pages.

It creeped out Will, so it tossed it back into the drawer and opened the bottom one. A wrist cuff, a wand, rings, more necklaces, beads, pages on pages of written diary entries, some dated, some not. They weren’t dated with he year, just the day he’s been here. One caught his eye.

Day 4

He picked it up and read:

The solitude that once brought me solace has now become a prison of despair. I am consumed by a gnawing sense of worthlessness, blaming myself for the unfortunate turn of events that have led me to this abyss. In the depths of my despair, I find myself unable to shake the feeling that I am the architect of my own misery. I replay past mistakes in my mind, dwelling on every misstep and perceived failure. The weight of these perceived transgressions crushes me, leaving me feeling utterly broken and alone. I long for companionship, for someone to share my burdens and offer a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Yet, I fear that my self-inflicted isolation has driven away those who once cared for me. I am trapped in a vicious cycle of self-hatred and loneliness, unable to find a way out. With tears streaming down my face, I beseech you to understand the torment that rages within me. I desperately crave redemption, a chance to make amends for the wrongs I have committed, both real and imagined. But the path forward seems shrouded in uncertainty and doubt. I fear that I am beyond redemption, that my self-destructive nature has forever tainted my soul. The pain I inflict upon myself is unbearable, yet I find myself unable to stop. It is a cruel paradox that gnaws at my very being. In this moment of hopelessness, I cling to the faint hope that there may yet be a way out of this abyss. I pray for guidance, for a glimmer of light to illuminate the path before me. Forgive me mother. I am not alone.

Will set it down slowly, anguish riddling his face. Pan is human. Was human. He felt the same ache Will does. Suddenly, as he dug around the drawer longer, he felt the hollow knock below. His eyes widen as he digs his nails under the wooden bottom and rips it up, finding a second hidden compartment under, with one single small bottle of fairy dust.

His amazement is interrupted by the loud commotion echoing outside the treehouse. Footsteps approach as Will tucks the bottle into his satchel and shuts the drawer.

He runs out of the bedroom, leaving it the same mess it was as when he entered it. The door swings open, moonlight illuminating the room.

“What-” Pan stops in his tracks, stunned to see Will in his own chambers. “What are you doing in here?! Where’s Devin?!”

Will changed the subject. “What do you mean? Devin isn’t down there with you?” He knew where he was.

“I can’t feel him-” Pan’s voice was manic, his eyes wide and full of anxiety, a full contrast from the mask he held up for those few seconds. Since reading that page, he could see Pan more clearly now. “You know where he is, don’t you?!” He accused.

“What the fuck?!” Will eyebrows scrunch. “What are you talking about ‘you can’t feel him?’”

Pan seemed to forget Will was standing in his bedroom, more focused on Devin. “Where is he?” His voice was broken, eyes wide and teary, like a child who lost their favorite toy.

Will suddenly felt his anxiety. “I’ll look for him. Did we check his room?”

“Sandesh is. Jared is running to the training grounds-”

Will bolted out of the room and flew down the ladder. 

Chapter Text

He only had one thing on his mind when he sprinted through the forest. To escape. If Jared caught Devin in the training grounds- what if he said something? No. He wouldn’t be that stupid.

Then again, what on earth did Pan mean? Could he feel all the boys on the island? The fuck did that even mean? Was this specific to Devin? Would he feel Devin and Will leave and come after them? Could he tell where they were?

He ran. He ran like the heart in his chest would be ripped out and teared apart if he stopped. He ran like he was seeing his family slip away from his fingers. If only he could run faster. If only these feet wouldn’t throb painfully against hard rock and trip over roots of trees.

Some part of him grew worried. Did Devin leave without him?

His senses grew when he reached the Training grounds. He heard Jared screaming Devin’s name. He had never heard Jared scream the way he was now. It was threaded with true fear and anguish. He ran toward him. Jared’s chest was heaving.

“Where is he?!” Will asked him.

“I don’t know-” Jared’s voice trembled as he slipped over his words over and over again. It reminded Will of his brother. “I looked everywhere- even in the trees- I didn’t- Did he say anything to you?!”

Will ignored his question. He had. But he said he would be here. “I’ll check the beach.”

“No, Jah is doing that.” Jared said, out of breath. “Where else could he be?”

“His treehouse?” Will shrugs.

“You idiot- of course he wouldn’t be-” Jared’s face washes over with despair. “Oh god…”

Will had seen this look before, but never worn by the boys. Will had worn it before. He recognized it. Devin was in trouble.

Jared pushed past Will and sprinted out of the grounds. Will tried to keep up with him as he guided him back into camp and then past Pan’s treehouse. The path behind it. That path lead two places. One of them, Will knew to be Pan’s thinking tree. No one dared to go there. Why would Devin go there?

But Jared started to scream Devin’s name and went down the other path. Will stopped where they split. He felt his heart get heavy and he screamed after Jared.

“Jared!” Will shouted, jogging after him. His name tasted like poison and left a bitter taste in Will’s mouth. This path was the longest. Will, surrounded by what looked like the same damn tree over and over again, like lockers in a hallway. He screamed Devin’s name over and over.

Silence was met every time. Sometimes, birds would fly up in fear and surprise. Their voices echoed through the forest and was met with nothing but the sound of it.

Jared’s running suddenly halted, and Will had to stop abruptly to not knock into his back. Ahead of them laid a wide area the size of a baseball field filled of dark bushes, a green never seen before. Like rose bushes drained of color and buds cut from the vine. Thorns sprouted from the stems and dripped with thick black liquid and fell like blood from the nose.

Dreamshade. It had to be. Will had never seen it in person. He recalled Pan’s words as they echoed through his head like a painful migraine.

“Once it makes contact with your blood, it spreads like wildfire through your veins. It’s a throbbing pain that burns under your skin and tricks your brain into hallucinations. You are dehydrated, and your brain will make you think you are starving. You will have no choice but to curl over and either go unconscious or wait until it spreads into your heart.”

Jared stepped forward and looked over the bushes. Next came the most painful, agonizing scream for Pan. It burned its way into Will’s head as tears streamed down Jared’s face. He screamed for Pan again, sprinting away as Will spotted tuff of brown hair tangled in the green.

“No…” Will’s voice broke out into a series of gut-wrenching sobs. “Devin!” His voice broke from the volume of it all. It was gone. He couldn’t scream anymore. He couldn’t think. And before he knew it, he was tearing his way through the bush and using all of his possible strength to rip them both from the dark poison. He didn’t care. He couldn’t feel it. All he could feel was his heart beating. Over and over.

Finally, Will tripped over into the dirt, his skin scratched up and stained with black ooze. Pan was there.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Devin. Those once bright eyes that starred at him with wonder, now laid bare, dull, and filled with tears. He was breathing, but shallowly. Thick black veins creeped their way up his neck and teased his chin.

“Pa…” Devin spurted out.

Will couldn’t focus. He looked up at Pan, who’s horrified gaze was held frozen.

“Help him!” He commanded; face stained in dreamshade.

“Carry him.” Pan ordered, flashing out of his trance, lips parted in shock.

The two wasted no time.

Will carried Devin like a baby coming come from the hospital. He was weak, dead weight, and pale. Pan reached over and teleported the trio over to a treehouse.

This one was unfamiliar.

It was larger, built differently, and was lower to the ground. A ladder climbed up to a latch on the floor of the home. Will didn’t hear Pan scream her name, but he did see the dirty blonde drop downm dressed in torn clothing. She said something. Will wasn’t listening.

Sometime later, they were in the cabin and Will suddenly snapped out of his own trance. There he was, sat on a dresser, shirtless, and being tended to by Pan. He dared not look over to Devin, who was lying lifeless on a bed that wasn’t his.

Pan’s eyes were wild and focused, but not erased of any emotion.

“Tink- Do you have dust?” He asked her, looking around in her drawers.

“You know I don’t!” She replied, just as panicky.

Will suddenly felt the weight of jar in his pocket. “What-” he mumbled. “What do you need- dust?”

“That’s how you cure it,” Pan mumbled, now coming back to Will’s wounds. “I couldn’t find it- I looked everywhere” Suddenly, Pan’s eyes met Will’s. He knew. Right then, he knew. Will gave it up without a second thought of his own. Pan didn’t have time to be angry.

“Use it on him.” Will said. “He needs it-”

“Pan-” But it wasn’t Tink or Will. The voice was frail and coughed.

All eyes watched Devins arms reach up weakly for the boy. Pan abandoned Will and with the pixie dust. he crossed the room to Devin. Opening it, he reached for Devin’s wound, but was resisted by Devin’s hand. It was strong and pushed him back. Pan tried to fight him. He knew what Devin was saying. Even if it wasn’t anything. He wouldn’t. God, he wouldn’t-

“Pan-” Devin’s frail voice called again.

“God damn it Devin!” Pan screamed. “Let me help you!”

“Will-” Devin reached for the dust.

“No-” Pan’s voice was shaky, scared, and his hands trembled. Will was scared he would drop to the bottle. “Devin- No-”

“Pan-” Tink tried but was casted away.

Suddenly, Devin’s strength was back, but only for a moment to grip both the boy’s wrists with his hands. “Peter!” The name casted the entire room into silence. Pan froze. Will couldn’t see the boy’s face, only Devin’s when he let go of Pan’s wrist in exhaustion. Pan set the bottle down next to Devin.

The room was quiet when Pan took Devin’s hand and kneeled before his bed. Devin’s eyes never left Pan’s.

Maybe it was the dreamshade making Will hallucinate, but he could have sworn he heard crying, but Devin’s face was quiet. Tink picked up the bottle and crossed over to Will. She started to quickly use the medicine to patch up any further cut’s that posed a threat.

"I-" Devin's voice ached like his lungs were craving against his ribs. "I want to go home."

"I know," Pan whispered, eyes shut with ferocious emotion that cradled Devin's wrists.

"Pan-" Devin breathed.

The room fell quiet, and so did Pan’s crying.

Pan looked up, all emotion drained from his face. Tink looked back at him, gauze in her hand, ready to wrap up Will’s wrists… again. Tears dried on Pan’s face. Those hazel eyes searched Devin’s face for any sign of life. He was met with the cold gaze of grey eyes. Cold eyes. Cold hands.

“Oh, Peter…” Tink’s voice was soft and filled with sorrow. One step toward him was all it took for his to snap out of it.

He stood up, towering over Tink. She reached for him, only to be met with cold eyes and cold hands. It frightened her, but she’d seen it before.

Will watched it all from the corner.

Tink’s hand cupped Pan’s cheek and wiped his tears away. She said something Will couldn’t make out, perhaps it was just for them to hear, but he saw Pan’s eyes snap to Will. If looks could kill, Will would be stripped of his skin, gutted, ripped apart, and fed to wolves.

He left the treehouse, leaving Tink to finish wrapping up Will’s wounds. They didn’t speak. Will watched Devin, waiting for him to move. For him to breath. For him to turn his head and smile at him like he did hen he first learned his name. All he watched was the back of his head with cold eyes and cold hands.

There was a echoing knock that held itself up int he back of Will’s eyes. It knocked when Pan burst through his treehouse door, it knocked when he saw Devin’s pale cheek, smeared with dark, haunting black blood. His face, white as snow against the thick green. It knocked when Devin called Pan’s name. His real name. The name he probably used for him before this. Before all of this. Nobody called him that anymore. It knocked when Tink grabbed the pixie dust. And it kept knocking. And knocking. The echo throbbed through his skull and screamed out Devin’s name, begging to be let inside. Will didn’t let it. Not until Tink was done wrapping the thick gauze around his scabbed forearms.

Then the door swung open, revealing a little boy, around 10 perhaps, wailing for his mother. Will’s hands gripped Devin’s with careful numbness only a parent could possess. What happens to a dream deferred? The 10-year-old wailed for his mother and cried and screamed and died alone. Died starving. Died with nothing but the warm drip of black death on his tongue. Died with cold eyes.

And colder hands.

🟈🟈🟈

“Hey,” He smiled. “You found it.” He held out a hand, expecting Will to hand it over.

Will raised it in question. “This yours?”

Devin looked at him anxiously. “Yeah. Can you…?”

Will tossed it to him, furrowing his eyebrows. “A book?”

“A journal.” Devin shrugged. “I think a lot.”

“Don’t we just,” Will mumbled, snapping back to his calm demeanor. “Well, have fun fighting. Or whatever you do.”

“We shoot.”

“Guns?” Will teases.

“Bow and arrow.” Devin chuckled. “I’m no good at it. I think a gun would be easier.”

Will nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah…”

There was an awkward silence caste between them. Will waited for him to walk away, or even jog back to the grounds. Devin stayed put. Will watched his nervous gaze flash to Pan’s large treehouse and then back to him. His bright blue eyes looked greyer in the sunlight.

“Lucky you.” Devin decided on, brushing his brown bangs back. “Missing out on training.”

“Lucky me,” Will said awkwardly, watching Devin nod nervously and turned back toward the path. Odd, Will thought to himself.

Devin stopped abruptly and turned on his heel back to Will. “You can… uhm- come watch if you want.”

Will scrunched his eyebrows together, pausing to say something but ultimately deciding to answer, “Sure.”

Devin smiled at him and gestured for Will to follow him down the path.

Chapter Text

“Is he going to be okay?” Will asked.

The sentence feels foreign in his mouth. Asking if someone as evil as Pan will be okay. Of course, he will be okay. Will tried to look at it logically, but all he could think was how he would act if he lost his best friend. He had. Multiple times. Truth be told, he never had one close enough to call one his ‘best’ truly.

Perhaps it was the way Pan’s eyes hollowed when Tink took his cheek, the way his brows softened when she wiped his tears away. It seemed they were communicating with more than words. They had history, that much was clear. Whether that history was romantic or platonic wasn’t clear.

“Not sure,” Her voice was like honey as she crossed the room, putting the final touches on his bandages. “He hasn’t experienced something like this since…”

“Wendy?” Will closed.

Her eyes fleet forward in surprise. “Yeah... Wendy.”

Will’s eyes lift up to the lifeless brown hair lying flat on a pillowcase. Devin’s arm drapes over the bed and hangs low to the side of the bedframe. Will felt a relentless nausea creeping close his throat. “I don’t understand.” He looked away, lifting himself off the dresser. “We were supposed to leave why would he do this?”

Tinkerbell guided him to a side table and handed him a thick journal. Devin’s. “Maybe he wanted you to leave. “

Devin’s journal was worn, the thick leather torn off in some places, brown paper threaded neatly into. Will looked up, unsure. “What?”

“Devin’s been here since last I can’t remember.” Tink shrugged, taking Will by the elbow and guiding him to the floor door. “This is his home, believe it or not, he’s been here longer than anything else. It’s all he knows. “

Will stopped before it, looking calculating at Tink. “And when he realized how much time has passed, he realized how much time could pass for me?”

She smiled, tears threatening to fall. “Selfless, isn’t he?”

Will looked back on Devin. “Makes me wonder how the hell he was friends with someone like Pan.”

“Peter is-”
Will turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you call him that? I thought it was Pan.”

Tink brushed him off. “It’s his name, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know…” Will gritted his teeth at the thought. “It makes him sound…”

“Human?” Tink snapped. “He is.”

Will looked down at the Journal Tink gave him. “I have to remind myself that.” It felt heavy in his hands. He felt wrong to hold it. He remembered when Devin would tear it out of his hands. What was inside?

“Just…” Tink’s blue eyes locked with Will’s as her hands landed on the journal. “...don’t push him. “

Will rolled his eyes and tore the journal away. “What? Like Wendy did?” He turned for the sill, spotting Devin in the corner of his eyes. He would never hear his voice again. He would never see him again after this. “We were supposed to leave together.” His voice broke suddenly. “I gave up my dust to save him and he didn’t-”

“Yours? You stole it from Pan!” Tink suddenly defended.

Will whipped around. “Yeah, to give it to you so you could help us! I figured if anyone understood us it would be you. Why are you defending him?!”

Tink stomped toward him. “I am on nobody's side but my own.”

“Bullshit.” Will spat in her face. “I saw how you were colliding him, wiping away his tears like some mother you are.”

“Peter needs someone to do that for him.” She shouted back. “He needs someone to be there!”

“So, he forces boys away from their homes?!”

“He didn’t know better! He was just a boy!”

“And now?” Will’s hand raised and gestured to below the treehouse, where Pan left. “What is he now? Dying? Human? A monster?”

Tink’s voice screeched through her walls. “A child!” Her voice silenced Will, snapping with every syllable. “He’s a child! Deep down like you all are.”

Will shakes his head, mumbling under his breath. “He certainly acts like one…”

As Will hopped down, he didn’t expect to see Pan, with his back toward the ladder. When he heard Will’s feet crunch against the leaves, he turned, face drained of all emotion.

“I thought you-” Will suddenly felt very guilty. Had Pan heard him in the treehouse?

“Don’t fuss over it.” Pan assured him. Will wasn’t sure if he was talking about Devin or the argument, he had with Tink. “Come on,” Pan’s hand took the younger’s shoulder and before Will could protest, he was outside the camp, behind Pan’s treehouse.

The boys heard them, all coming scrambling. Jared was the first to approach Pan, despite Felix’s best efforts to pull him back.

“Is he okay?” Jared asked.

Pan didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t meet anyone. Only taking his himself up the stairs to his treehouse. He could have teleported. But he didn’t. He’s tired.

Jared’s eyes and a few others’ caught Will’s.

“Where is he?” Felix asked.

It must have been the look on Will’s face because Felix quickly understood. Anguish washed over his face.

“I need to talk to him-” Felix said, being abruptly stopped by Will.

“Felix- stop.” Will demanded, hands on the towering boy’s chest.

“He’s my best friend!” Felix argued, eyes threatening with tears. His fac was red and his breath was short. Will remembered Felix was the second to know Devin the longest. “I should have been there! Not you! Why did he bring you?!”

“Because I was carrying him!” Will shouted. “I was cut up by Dreamshade. I saved him!”

“Guys-” Blake interrupted. “Stop. This is useless.”

Felix’s face pushed its way inches from Will, his demeanor towering Will. It scared Will to see the shadows drift over his eyes. “If you really saved him. He would be alive right now.” Before Will could reply, Felix gripped Will’s chin wildly and threw them both against the trunk of the tree. Felix’s fingernails tore crescent into Will’s cheeks. “Pan should have let you die.” He spat.

It took Jared and Blake to tear Felix away from Will, tossing him away to the side. “Felix!” Blake demanded. “Cut it out!”

Jah’sir was quiet, standing behind Sandesh. Sadness face was similar to Pan’s, dull and full of denial. Will wiped his chin with his sleeve cuff. Blake’s eyes met Will’s. “You okay?” The black-haired boy asked him.

Will didn’t answer, eyeing the stairs that lead up to Pan’s treehouse.
Pan’s doorknob was cold and unlocked when Will’s slender hands reached to grab it. The noise echoed, with the click of the door opening. He half expected for Pan to slam it in his face. Creaking forward into the familiar space, he saw the empty air of his main space, his animal skin curtain leading to his bedroom closed.

He scared to approach it, his feet aching against the hardwood. He had grown used to the feeling of it.

Suddenly, Pan voice echoed softly. “Leave me, Felix.”

Will froze, eyes wide. He wanted to turn around, but some part of him crept forward, the animal skin acting as a border between them.

“It’s not Felix,” Will’s voice was low and careful. “And I will not leave.”

The comment was met with bitter silence. Will knew Pan was in no position to order him around, but he didn’t half-expect him too not. He waited for Pan to boil over, take his rage and sadness out on him. Will wanted him to. This part of Pan scared him. Not the part that demanded authority and held itself high like the god he proclaimed himself to be. This part, the weak, frail vulnerable part scared him. Pan was the center of the island, and if he crumbled, Will was terrified the island would with him.

“The boys are waiting for us to do something, Pan.” Will decided on after a long silence.

Pan’s voice was soft, but still held itself up with that mask of authority. It was a relief to hear it. “Take them to training. They know what to do.”

“Want me to put Felix on them?” Will asked.

He was met with silence for a moment, and Will expected him to continue to. Suddenly, he said, “Your capable.”

The comment baffled Will, and truly took him off guard. Him? Capable? By Pan’s standards? “I don’t know…” He trailed off, a playful smile building. One that Pan couldn’t see but he could hear. “...last time you put me in charge I took them to the hot springs.”

Pan smiled quietly to himself, but hid the sound from his voice. “Not funny.”

“Right, sorry.” Will revamped himself. He locked around the animal skin, this barrier between him and Pan. His fingers reached out and brushed themselves over the thin fur of the animal. He shut his eyes and pictured how the animal looked. Ferocious, angry, and scared. “Pan I-” His voice trembled. “Just tell me what to do.”

Pan’s voice grew louder, like he was directly on the other side of the skin, reaching but to afraid to pull it back. “Just…”He mumbled, his voice trailing off. He’s walking away. “...handle it.”

Will huffed out a sigh and looked up in exhaustion. “I can do that.” he replied, making his way back to the door.

Will looked over the smaller group of boys like a teacher a classroom, taking attendance. He felt a tough sphere lodged in his throat as his own voice echoes in his head. “There are 8 tree houses. 7 boys.” He looked up at the treehouses that surrounded them from above. 8 treehouses. 6 boys.

Felix stood a few feet away from the fire pit, arms crossed and leaning against a tree trunk. Once his eyes met Will’s, they looked hopeful, full of sorrow. Will shook his head and Felix’s eyes faltered back down to the ground in deep thought.

Around the firepit, sat the rest of the boys. The number of them burned in Will’s brain and he looked at them like it would be the last. Like they were mortal. He realized they were. He could lose them. They could lose him. He felt so suddenly human, so different from the pedestal Pan placed him on since the announcement of him being a savior.

He couldn’t save him. If he couldn’t save a single boy’s life, how could he save an entire island?

That lump felt to awfully heavy, but he swallowed it down.

Approaching the boys, they all hesitated to look up at him. Those eyes all asked the same question. Are we going to be okay? Will’s chest tightened. The same look Claire and Ira always gave him after Rob had a episode.

“We’re okay” he always told them, eyes filled with tears, but mouth smiling. They knew they weren’t, but the look gave them hope. “How big is your brave?” He asked, a playful smirk on his face. They smiled back.

“So big!” They both jump into his arms.

Will looked past the boys and pictured his two sisters, Claire holding little Ira’s hand. They smiled at him. “We’re okay.” Their eyes told him.

Will closed his eyes as his chin dropped to his chest. Then, he raised it with a smirk, eyes filled with tears.

“How about a game?”

The boys faces faltered, but Blake smiled proudly at him. Soon, they all understood him. They all smiled, despite the ache in their chest.

“Hide and seek?” Jah’sir suggested, nervous.

“Oh hell yeah!” Sandesh exclaimed, rising form his seat next to Blake.. “You’re going down!”

Will chuckled with the rest of the boys. Soon, the boys ran from the camp to all find a hiding spot. Blake hesitated to run, looking back at Will, who watched form a few yards away. They two shared a beat of silence and stillness. There was nothing but pure, unfiltered understanding in Blake’s eyes. He smiled proudly.

“Your supposed to close your eyes, dumbass.” Blake said.

“Right,” Will said quietly, before turning his body around and closing his eyes.

As he heard Blake run out of camp, he opened his eyes. The sun glared at him, threatening to submit to the trees that teased the rays. The heat comforted him, the golden light shining behind Pan’s treehouse. Pan, looking out of his curtain, looked down at Will, and Will caught his gaze.

Pan smiled at him. A real smile. A sad one, but a real one. The mask Pan had worked so hard to create around him was chipping. The wall was coming down, brick by brick. Then the countdown hit 0, and it was time to play.

Chapter Text

Dī thee think sin Jesus, 

th' son ophe carpentry,

smelÞ th' wooede ophe th' burnende crosſ

a'd temporarilī  coǧitāciǒun  ophe home?

D.E

🟈🟈🟈

The game ended up being a riddling success. Will and the boys return to camp after training a day later. Just what the boys needed, a distraction. Will didn’t mean to have them suppress their emotions and feelings for Devin, but he took them for boys who didn’t deal with them in the first place. He reckoned there would be plenty of those feelings tomorrow when Devin’s funeral would be held, he was told.

As they returned, all attached practically by the hip, Will eyed his treehouse, his windows lit up from the inside light. Pan was in there. The thought of the leader rummaging around in there made Will smile. Then he thought of Devin’s journal. He thought of his own journal. And suddenly it didn’t make him smile anymore. 

“Hey,” He mumbled to Blake. “I’m gonna head up.”

“Alright,” Sandesh climbed on Blake's back, receiving a grunt of protest. “See you tomorrow man!”

Will smiled reassuringly at them, wasting no time to jog over to the ladder that led to his patio. His front door was peered open by a single crack, candlelight bleeding through. He opened the door gently, his bored eyes watching the back of Pan, who was busy looking over his desk. His stomach sunk silently. He remembered he had left a sketch on there, not one he had made, but one Devin made. 

It was the one at the Hot springs. Will was sat on the edge of the water, hands gripping the warm concrete, steam rising and blue light illuminating his face. The way Devin captured his constant smile, his sad eyes, dark circles under his face, oddly shaped nose that he made look so beautiful. No color was painted, just charcoal pencil. 

Pan looked at it, definitely had heard Will enter behind him. He set down the sketch and didn’t say anything about it. He turned to Will with tired yet hard eyes. Calculated and focused on the mission at hand. 

Will made a soft smirk. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Pan leaped over the implied joke. “It cannot wait.” He said, his voice low, and impatient. “We have to go. Now. “

Suddenly, Will's eyebrows shot up for a multitude of reasons. Had he not known the sketch wasn’t his? Surely he recognizes his Devin’s writing, his signature in the corner of the page. Did he not care? Was he letting him have it? Not only that but what on Earth was he talking about?

“Where?” Will asked, oblivious. 

“Skull Rock.” 

“Now? Like tonight?” Will asked, eyeing his bed. God ne needed to sleep. He was looking forward to crying himself to sleep tonight. “Can’t we wait? I don’t feel like walking and teleporting makes me sick-”

“I can’t teleport you,” Pan said so quickly, that Will almost didn’t hear it.

“What?” Will said after a pause.

Pan paused again, looking off to the window. “I can’t.” He repeated, like a guilty child tattling on himself. He shook his head and quickly switched personalities like a person with a disorder. He didn’t have one. He was just Pan. That was his disorder. Himself. “My magic is dying- Didn’t Felix explain this to you?!”

Will acted defensively. Was he seriously pawning this on him?! “He did but I didn’t realize it was so soon-”

Pan shook his head, stepping forward, a hand outstretched for Will’s arm. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” 

 Will stepped back. “Wait Pan- Let’s just talk about this-”

“No time-” Pan reached out again.

“Pan! Wait-”

It only was for a second, but the fearless leader, the tyrant, the controlling asshole turns away and coughs violently. He turns back, the pale hand he retched in, wiped on his thigh, smearing black on his animal skin. Blood. He tried to hide it, but he couldn’t.

Will couldn't look away from the stain. “I don’t want to do this.” He mumbled, voice shaking.

Pan matched his softness. “Me neither. But we have no choice.”

Will shook his head, looking away from him entirely, turning for his desk. “I want to go home.”

Pan grabbed his bicep. “Will.” Will tried to pry him away, but his grip laid firm. He looked at him. Those green eyes looked at him, determined. Let’s go.”

“If I give you my heart,” Will started, whispering as the island could hear him. Pan listened intently, and through his dark eyes, Will saw a glimmer of understanding. “I can’t go home.”

Pan rolled his eyes and let go, walls shooting back up, “Your family is fine-”

Will with any control of himself, shoved him back. Which proved to have more power than intended. The boy tripped back and caught himself on the desk. “How do you know?!’ Will shouted at him. “You don’t know what I have had to deal with!”

Pan tried to stand off the desk. “Your sisters are safe!” He was met with Will’s hands pushing him back onto the desk, fingers laced with his shirt, tugging him closer, but pushing his thinner body against the wooden table. If it weren’t for Pan’s power struggle, Will wouldn’t have all the control in this physical moment. 

“Prove it!” Will screamed into his face, Pan gripped the table with one hand, the other digging into Will’s wrists, attempting to pry him away. Alas, Will was stronger. Pan hated it. He hated how much stronger he was than him when it came to physical ability. Tears threaten his already ocean-water eyes. “Show me they are okay because they haunt me every single fucking day. I wake up and I see them. I hear them at night, crying, waiting for me- I can’t- They need me. They could be hurt- I can’t protect them-”

Suddenly, Pan took the sentimental route to get this boy off of him. His hand that previously gripped Will’s wrists flew to the side of his face. His fingers teased the hair behind his ear, his pinky dipping into his sharp jaw crease. His palm was strangely warm and comforting against Will’s cheek. 

“If I show you them…” He said, “Will you shut up and get off of me?”

Will’s eyes faltered, suddenly remembering the leg he had planted between Pan’s. “No tricks. No magic. No lies.” He demanded softly.

“No lies. “ Pan nodded.

“Do you promise?”

Pan let go of his face, trying to push on his shoulders. “Goddammnit Will- We don’t have time!”

His own tasted like venom on the demon's tongue. Odd enough, he liked the sound of it. “Promise to me” He demanded louder. “Promise me that they are okay!” Pan relented, chin dipping up in frustration, as his he could find the solution in the ceiling. “Please…” Will pleaded, Pan’s eye shut, his chest letting out a harsh breath. Will’s voice broke when he was met with silence. “Please.”

Pan’s eyes opened and he looked back down, his hand resting on his shoulder. His green eyes studied the boy in front of him. God, he needed to pick an eye to look at. Did- did he just look at his lips?! 

“I promise.” He whispered.

Will flew off of him, watching Pan adjust himself to the newfound personal space. Maybe I’m adopting the same sense of personal space the other boys are, Will joked to himself. Without thinking, he started for the door, Pan following suit. Maybe it was the stress, but his heart was racing like no other. 

🟈🟈🟈

The hourglass was warm with energy and power, the glass reflecting Will’s face to him. He hadn’t looked at himself in a while. He hadn’t really paid attention to the cut over his cheekbone that now had scabbed over and bristled to a soft brown over his pale skin. The lighter scar above his temple, where Pan had smashed him into the rock. The bruise on his lip, the dirt in his hair, and the rage that he held in his eyes when he first came here were gone. In the reflection he was clean and it left a nauseating ache in the pit of his stomach. 

“I see you have finally made your mind up,” A voice called behind him. It wasn’t Pan’s. The call sounded like a distorted old man’s.

He whipped around in surprise, watching Pan turn with him. Pan was watching him admire himself. Pan stiffened, looking up at the Will at the dark, smokey shadow that elevated in the air. Their eyes glowed like white pearls when the sun caught them. They soared over Pan and circled Will like a predator getting ready to devour its prey. He couldn’t see it, but Will heard a smile in its voice.

“Don’t look too excited…” It joked, approaching close to Will, brushing its cold translucent finger over his chest. “This won’t take long.” 

Will tried to smack it away, watching his hand fly through the black smog. He stumbled back instinctively, closer to Pan, as if he could or would ever protect him. “Pan…” he murmured to him.

“It’s alright.” He assured him. He spoke up at the shadow. “This is Will. He has the heart we are looking for.” He introduces the boy as if the shadow hasn’t watched over Will since he landed on the sand.

“Oh,” The Shadow made no intent to hide his knowledge. “I know who this is, Peter. Let’s cut to the chase…” Suddenly, it appeared in front of Pan, holding out his hand. Pan didn’t move. “I have no intention to waste your precious time…”

Pan, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable again, glanced nervously at Will, who locked eyes with him. Pan turned his nose to the boy and looked up proudly at the shadow, chest out. The shadow took his consent and let his hand dive into Pan’s chest. Will gasped audibly, but there was no blood, only a soft yellow glow around the Shadow's would-be wrist. Pan’s eyes scrunched closed as it ripped his heart out with a firm row. Will almost ran to Pan, watching him gently curl over, holding his chest. He stayed there for a moment and Will took his eyes away from Pan and onto his heart. It was not like any ordinary heart. It was like a gem. A dark black gem that simmered in the like and smitten a dark black shadow. He could witness spots of red oozing around in there like some wicked lava lamp. 

Will suddenly felt very scared when the shadow eyed him. 

“No,” Pan ordered. “I will do that.”

Abruptly, the Shadow faltered to look over at Pan, watching him slowly approach Will with the same grace as a deer approaching a little boy with food. 

“It’s alright.” He whispered. 

“Is it though?” Will half-joked, a smile threatening to appear. Why did he have to joke in serious situations? It’s how he copes. The shorter boy leads him over to the hourglass. 

“What- what are you doing?” The Shadow asks.

“I’ve promised him he would see his family.”

“Mal-"

“It’s not up for debate.” He snapped.

Will couldn't help but smirk at the Shadow. Get in line,  bitch.

The glass was met by his reflection again and Pan let his hand hover over the glass, left to right. His reflection was replaced with a scene in a home he was deeply unfamiliar with. He tried to identify it, but he couldn’t what was more strange was the man that walked into the house. 

The shadow manifested between Will and the hourglass, fogging up his vision before the human boy stumbled back. “This is ridiculous.” The Shadow called. “We are wasting time.” 

The shadow’s hand soared toward Will but halted when Pan stood in front of him. 

“Enough.” Pan nearly shouted, his voice firm, cold, and as wild as fire. “We made a deal. Step. Away.”

The Shadow shook his head and soared back into the air. Pan, now getting impatient, gripped Will’s bicep and guided him back in front of the orange glass. The house came back, the man re-entered and before Will could speak about it, his heart dropped, hearing the familiar calling of his sisters. They all cried in surprise and came running for the man. He smiled and lifted them both, a few more small children following. This wasn’t his father. This wasn’t even his stepfather, Rob. His lips parted as it all came crashing down. The man’s wife crossed the room and kissed her partner on the cheek. Claire reached around the man’s neck and held him tightly. The same way she did to her father. 

Will let out a trembling breath, ending in an unsure smile. The scene faded into fog and reappeared as a familiar home. Clayton’s, best friend, Paul’s home. Paul had known him since they were in elementary school, and now he had long chestnut hair and was as tall as a doorframe. 

The two boys came into the kitchen laughing, and soon enough, Addie came running in with a cat in her hand, smiling wildly Paul came up to her and petted his small black animal. Will hated crying, but he didn’t notice the single tear running down his cheek. 

Then, the fog consumed them and replaced them with two images, split in half like some side by side. His mother, sitting at a stand with a numb, drained look on her face. She looked horrible. Her cheekbones were carved into her face, and her hair was thin and frail. Next to this, was Rob, sitting alone in a dark cellar with a soft grey uniform. Strange enough, Will didn’t feel guilty smiling at them. 

Pan took a shallow breath and placed a hand on his shoulder, this time, with a softer firmness, as if Will might run unconscious and fall into his arms. Will stood firm after he turned to him. He braced himself, watching Pan’s calculated gaze eye the space where Will’s left pectoral lay. 

Then, it happened. 

Pan was right. It wasn’t painful, and the green-eyed boy’s reaction was justified. The pathetic cry that left Will’s throat came to shock to him. He gripped Pan’s own shoulder.

“Fuck,” He gasped under his breath. Then, Pan ripped it out.

His heart was different, and suddenly Will could breathe again. A little bit. Looking at his own heart made him nauseous, so he just kept his eyes on Pan’s. Pan let go of him, letting Will find his support, he stepped back and admired the heart.

He had it. He had it in his hand, his grasp, and its beating teased Pan’s fingers. The power this heart held, and to think he was only supposed to have 50% of it. A smile built on his face, a sinister, cunning smile that made Will’s stomach drop in fear. 

Then, Pan’s eyes met Will. There was something there in his eyes. This wasn’t a child. This was a power-hungry monster who craved any ounce of dominance he could control. It terrified Will. Those emerald eyes looked at him like he was an object to be played with. Like he had lost, and Pan had won. Finally, Pan had him. 

Will looked back at the hourglass as if he could still see Claire’s smile, and suddenly, Pan’s smile dropped and Will caught it. 

“You promised.” Will mouthed to him. 

Pan frowned at him and gazed down at the heart. No longer was this gem a ruby, a rare power, but now it was a burden, a leech, and a parasite. He held it with both hands and without warning, snapped it in half. 

The shadow’s eye widened in shock. “Wha- ҉M҉҉A҉҉L҉҉C҉҉O҉҉L҉҉M҉! ҉ “

Will couldn’t hear the name the shadow called Pan, but he knew it wasn’t his name. He curled over, vision blurred and ears ringing. His head throbbed in pain and his chest ached. It felt like a thousand knives diving into his flesh, trying to flesh out a heart that wasn’t there.

“ W҉҉H҉҉A҉҉T҉ ҉A҉҉R҉҉E҉ ҉Y҉҉O҉҉U҉ ҉D҉҉O҉҉I҉҉N҉҉G҉?”

A hand caught him and pulled him up, plunging the heart back into Will’s chest. He was back. The ringing echoed out, and his vision took some blinking, but then he found Pan, breathing just as heavily as him, standing over him. He was always over him, always behind a light like some kind of fucked up Guardian Angel. 

He looked beautiful. 

“ ҉M҉҉A҉҉L҉҉C҉҉O҉҉L҉҉M҉! ҉ “

His face shined brighter, the smile, genuine, his skin glowed and shined. It only lasted a moment before returning to his darkness. Yet that smile stayed. 

The shadow manifested in front of him, a barrier between the two boys. “I hope you know what you're doing.” It spoke darkly in a harsh whisper like it was only for Pan to hear. Will had heard it regardless.

Pan didn’t reply, only looking up at him with an arrogant smile. All then, they were back at camp. Pan had teleported them

🟈🟈🟈

Funerals, Will found, worked differently on Neverland. 

All the boys, though there was one less, stood in a half circle around a 6-foot-long, 6-foot-deep hole in the island’s soil. Will had never seen it before, the roots in the ground, and it seemed to breathe, to throb at him like some kind of heartbeat. 

All the boys wore the same expression, one that seemed easy for them. Like this wasn’t the first time they had lost someone. Blake was the strongest of the boys in his vulnerable moment, looking stiffly out, his jaw clenched, and his eyes hard. Will let his hand reach out and grasp the boy’s darker hand. His gaze faltered for a moment, adjusting to him. He took a trembling breath, feeling Will squeeze twice. 

Somehow, he knew what he said. It’s okay. We're okay. You’re okay. 

Then, the rest of them came out. Devin lay still on a long animal skin stretched out and tied to two thick branches. Felix and Pan set him down next to the deep pit. Felix stood up and back, all of us watching Pan take a moment to look at Devin. If the scene in Tinkerbell’’s cabin was a wall knocking down, this was a kingdom burning down. 

He looked at him like he was heaven, an angel, his world. A soft hand cradled his cold cheek and brushed his hair over his forehead. He looked at him like he was sinless, he was perfect, he was his everything. The hand snaked under Devin’s head and the other under his knees. Gently, with the care of holding a baby’s soft head, he lowered Devin into the deep pit. 

Blake squeezed Will’s hand twice as Pan took his time raising himself onto his feet. He took the first handful of soil and watched it fall gently onto Devin’s grey face. Felix took the next. Then came Jah’sir.  He spoke little no English. He knew French though.   Will realized what order they were going in. Who’s known him the longest. Then Sandesh. Then Jared  quickly became popular with us.  Next was Blake. Pan’s gaze was weak, but he still glared at Will, watching Will’s hand slip away from Blakes when he approached the pit. 

Will came after that. The soil felt soft and crumbled in his palm. By now, Devin was covered ¾. Will watched the damp soil clump and crush into Devin’s eyes. When Devin was out of sight completely, silence dulled over the boys. Pan had planted a small log over the grave and lit it with a match. It burned and the smog smelled strange enough like cinnamon. 

Nobody said anything, and perhaps it was customary, but Will hated it. Why didn’t they say something?

Then came the soft song of Sandesh’s voice. “I know I gave it to you months ago…”

The silence echoed, and Will’s head perked up at the lyric sung. Sandesh met his eyes and shrugged. Will looked back at Pan, who didn’t seem to hear him. Felix did. Felix was glaring daggers at him. 

Fuck that. “I know you're trying to forget…” Will sang a little louder. 

The boys fell inot silence, and Pan’s head turned up to Will. His eyes were confused, alas, he wasn’t there for the musical performance.

“But…” Jah spoke, his low voice rumbling in the air. It sounded like he was trying to remember the words. “... between the drinks and subtle things…”

Will smiled, guiding him. “The holes in my apologies, you know…”

Sandesh smiled sadly and joined in. “I'm trying hard to take it back.” He sang a little louder.

Jared’s voice was smooth and almost jazzy full of soul. “So if by the time..”

The rest of the boys followed. “...the bar closes,” Will looked over at Felix, whose eyes were wide in surprise. His lips perked up in a half-smile. “And you feel like falling. I'll carry you home…” Silence suddenly cast over the boys and Pan’s eyes met Will’s once more. “Tonight,” Will mumbled. 

🟈🟈🟈

Do you think that Jesus, 

The son of carpentry,

Smelt the wood of the burning cross

And temporarily thought of home?

Chapter Text

I picture it in the back of my head                                                                                                                                                                                                         

“Where is Peter?”

Someone saying to me

Asking me, “Who is Peter?”

The thought buries itself deep within my mind as I review old words you gave me. They probably aren’t considered old to you but to me, they felt years ago. Time with you flies by when I need it to slow down. The moment flickers in my brain that a simple conversation can’t plainly explain. Have you ever seen the flickering sun rays through the autumn leaves? Have you ever seen an empty bookshop with nothing but the sound of your footsteps? Have you ever seen Peter?

 Your name slips through my lips but I need it to linger. I want to memorize every syllable and enunciate every word. I hate slurring my words but when I talk about Peter but I just talk too fast. 

I have too much to say in that flickering moment. Of those sun rays. Of those rainy days spent inside. Of the smell of books read inside on quiet nights. And the mornings spent alone. There aren’t enough words in the English dialect to express my rage for those who dare cross you and not witness the same light I do. Every word across your lips feels like a blessing of music to man.

 People like to say I’m nothing without you, but without Peter, I know who I am. I’m a reflection of your pain, I can feel your hurt through the pages, I can hear your screams through the lines of writing you show me. You brush it off like it won’t build up under the rug. Let’s make a new one. Let us rebuild this dusty home because I’m a deep cleaner. I want to know your thoughts on suicide. I want to hear your fears. I want to know your dreams and do you share them with me? 

Please.

Share these piles of dust with me.

D.E.

🟈🟈🟈

Day 31 The island is duller without Devin. It’s quieter and yet, it is lighter, the island is more vibrant, and the boys started to hear the music Pan is playing. In a way, I think that Devin died so Neverland could flourish. 

Pan didn’t think so. I think Pan has been holding some kind of grudge against me since the funeral. He never looks at me for longer than a moment. Perhaps it's also that I took my place as co-leader, leading hunting missions, directing games, and splitting the boys up into groups. Pan stood by and let me, not angry, just a festering frustration he held. 

I never dared to tell him what to do. Only asking him things like “Is this good? “Should they do this?” “Where should we hunt today?”

I was met with the same answer. “Up to you.” 

Pan was in a way, happier. He was brighter looking, but he couldn’t help but seem a little disassociated. He lost his first friend, the one he grew to know as immortal. One day, I said to him, “I miss him too.” He stopped what he was doing in the moment, and I saw those walls shrink down for a moment, just for him to shoot up and walk away for nobody to see it. 

Day 38

I read Devin’s journal this morning. He wrote about Pan I’m assuming when they first met. He sounded really nice like he was portrayed in those Disney films. Enchanting. Much different than how he is now. I figured I might as well start from the beginning to understand his thought process. Maybe I can even try to see how much time he spent on the island. 

I’m trying to get into a routine here, but it’s hard to think about anything else but the secrets of the island. The real shit. Things Pan doesn’t tell me. Not that I could ask him anyway. And if I went out of my way to find those things out, I would face his wrath like I have so many times before. 

Where is Wendy?

What are the pirates doing?

Why aren’t there more boys?

How does time work here? 

How long have I been here? 

🟈🟈🟈

“You really aren’t concerned with it are you?” Blake said.

Will’s arrow shoots past his fingers and straight into the center of the blood-red straw target. The obsidian tip whistled through the air as it whipped into the dyed dead grass. Will knocked another arrow into his bow.

“Who can’t be?” Will replied. “I’m the only guy here who actually remembers something.”

Blake hummed in agreement, stumbling over to his own target and ripping the arrows out of it. “Do the others know?”

“About Pan showing me my girls?” Will lifted his bow in the air, focusing his gaze on Blake for a moment. “Hell no! I’m surprised he even agreed to it. I’ve been sucking up to that asshole since the challenges. It’s a relief I get to relax without almost getting killed.”

Blake smirked, walking back over to him. He gently guided and adjusted Will’s posture, this time, with more platonic care. “You get used to it here. Don’t let the others hear this, but some of the guys are a little sour of your newfound leadership.”

Will rolled his eyes and pulled the arrow back. “Oh, like I chose to do this.” He let the arrow slip past and snap into the target. Bullseye splitting straight through the previous arrow.

“Didn’t you?” Blake asked, and suddenly, Will lowered his bow to the side. He thought about it. A few weeks ago, he was struggling to even hit the target.

Will’s eyes faltered to the ground but then focused back on the target. He pulled his bow back up. “Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.”

“I know you, Will,” Blake commented, watching him close one of his eyes, the other eyeing the arrow directly in the center. “You hate not knowing. You’d rather ask forgiveness than permission. Do us all a favor and-”

Suddenly, the arrow slipped back with a blistering whistle and snapped through the second arrow on the bullseye. Will wasn’t even trying, his eyes looked over at Blake with careful rage. 

Blake stood his ground, taking a breath. “Do us all a favor and don’t get used to it. Break the cycle. Be the leader we need.”

Will’s eyes softened, and suddenly, his stomach churned in an unfamiliar feeling. Blake eyed the ground, patting Will’s shoulder as he walked away from the boy until he was alone. Will looked over at the target, then at his bow, then up at the sky. 

He took up wood cutting after that. He enjoyed the quiet moments with Jared, taking out all his anger on a single piece of wood. Over and over again the axe swung up, and over and over again, it split into two even pieces. Eventually, Jared let him take over. 

Will walked over to the increasingly small pile of wood that the camp hadn’t needed cut yet. If anything, they had enough wood to last them months, but Will still stayed there. He still cut wood. He stuck the thick log of wood onto the stump. He picked up his axe and raised it, a breath exiting his mouth and leaving in grunt as the axe made brutal contact with the log. It snapped evenly in two pieces. 

He did that, over and over again until the sun hid behind the trees, the Neverland moon teasing the sky. The sky grew darker with every swing until Jared returned with one thick log. 

“We can split this one tomorrow, let’s head back.” He said.

“Nah,” Will huffed, shirt sweaty and chest panting. “I got it. Hand it here.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Will- you’ve been at it for hours. Take a break.”

“Jared-” Will huffed, tossing the axe to the ground. His eyes begged Jared with soft ease until Jared caved. He dropped the 6-foot-tall log over to him. “Thank you. I’ll just split these into a few discs then I’ll return to camp.”

“Make sure you eat man. Don’t pitch a fit to me when you wake up sore.” Jared patted his back, then suddenly wiped the hand on his pants. “You’re sweaty and you smell like spoiled venison.”

Will chuckled, swatting him away and tearing out his shirt over his head. He could use a bath. He eyed the log and shook his head. He walked over, his finger calloused and knuckles bruised. Gripped the tree trunk, then dragged it over and dropped it near his axe. And with exhausted rage, he picked up the axe and swung it into the bottom of the trunk.

And again and again and again. Sweat dripped down his back, his hair damp and slicked back. He has gotten stronger since arriving here. The constant running, tackling, and training every single day with occasional rest has put his body through warfare. Blake and Sandesh called him “Guapo,” which pisses off Jared, but the conflict amuses Will whenever his physic is brought up. 

Will shifted the log, making another dent with the tip of his axe where he would be slashing. Then, he got back into position, feet planted firmly, and axe swinging over his head-

“Trying to cut down the entire forest?” A voice calls behind him. 

The axe fell and made a disfigured dent on the log. Wil turned around, seeing Pan, with crossed arms and leaning against a tree trunk with a smug look on his face.

Asshole. “Yeah, I figured if I continued north I’d have a straight shot to the beach.”

Pan smiled at his joke but didn’t laugh. “You’ve been gone the entire day. The boys are worried.”

Will rolled his eyes and tugged the axe out of the wood. “How kind of you to come pick me up out of their concern.”

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep at it.”

Will swung his axe back up. “That’s the plan.” The axe soared down and chopped the disfigured part off the wood. He would save that for carving later. He kicked it to the side and re-aimed the axe to cut off another disc. 

“You’ll kill me.”

“Two birds,” he grunted, his axe swinging up, over his head, “one stone.”

As the weapon came flying down, a hand reached out and gripped it, below the sharp obsidian edge. It didn’t make contact with Pan, sadly, but Will tried to tear it away from him.

“Let go.”

“Come back to camp.”

“Did Jared send you?”

Pan’s voice was sharp, and defensive, as if it was ridiculous that Pan would ever take orders to one of his boys. “ I  sent me.”

Pan ripped it out of his hands and tossed it to the side. Will stomped away. “What a turnout!” his arms wave in the air in dramatic emphasis. “After a full week of silence, he starts to miss me!’

“That is not what I said.” Pan quickly shut down. 

Will picked up the disfigured piece and flicked off splinters. “What do you really want?”

“I want to talk to you.” Pan shrugged.

Will eyed him with disinterest,  really?  “Let me rephrase- what do you want  from  me?”

Pan’s smile dropped, and an almost offended look appeared. “Can I not simply speak to you?”

Will took a knife from his belt and dug a long line into the wood. “You’re bored, and I’m hilarious.”

“You’re clearly melancholy, and I’m offering an ear.”

Will gently placed his fingers near the dent, “You don’t care, and I’m not stupid.”

Pan suddenly stomped toward the boy with his back facing him. “Why must you be so incredibly stubborn? I have done nothing but help you!”

Suddenly, Will turned within a second, fingers dipping to the wood and ripping it clean in halves. “You-!” He shouted, inches from his face. “You- I can’t- I’m stubborn?!” Pan’s eyes widened in surprise and almost fear. “You have shut me out since the funeral! You’ve shut out everyone! These boys need you! You’re the stubborn one!”

“Me?!” Pan snarled, now standing with his chest up. A finger flies into Will’s chest. “Stop deflecting your attachment issues onto me, Will. They're fine!”

Will smacks his hand away. “Of course, you would believe that! You’ve been too cooped up in your treehouse to see it! And when you do decide to take a wander around, It’s me leading them, making sure they are staying focused, making sure they are happy and don’t fall into a deep-rooted depression because of your sulking!”

Pan’s hand jerks up but Will shoves him back. 

“You gonna hit me?” Will smirks, watching Pan mentally struggle to decide whether or not to hurt him. It was adorable. Will stepped close to him, his height generating dominance as his cool blue eyes stared daggers into Pan’s. “I fucking dare you.” Pan hand swings up but Will catches it. Pan ripes it away and shoves him against a tree. Will lets out an amused chuckle. “I’ve been itching for a fight with you.”

Pan’s teeth grit and snarl at him. Will smiles wildly, his eyes testing and strangely excited. 

“Pan!” A boy’s voice calls out.

The two heads snap toward Jah’sir. He was out of breath, most likely because he ran there. 

“What?!” Pan shouts at him, not letting go of Will. 

Jah huffs. “There’s a boy on the beach.”

Pan’s eyes widen in a way Will has never seen. Then crept a smile as dark as the night sky that cast itself over the trees.

Chapter Text

"You died screaming but the monster who took your place was silent."

🟈🟈🟈

It only took a few moments before Pan teleported him and Will to the edges of the beach. When Will scrambled to reach for the unconscious boy, Pan kept a firm arm over his chest, restraining him.

Boys crowded him, studying the boys tanned skin and golden locks that curled up around his face. The sun-stained red blisters around his nose and arms. He had been there a while. How could Pan not notice? Will and Pan inched closer like a unified front and Will spotted freckles dancing around his skin like stars of a solar system. Sand lay buried in the crevices of his muscle shirt, and his grey cargo pants. He looked like he had run a mile and collapsed onto the sand.

‘Was this what I looked like?’ Will thought to himself. ‘A dried up, blistered, sandy mess of a boy, too nauseous to think straight and too shocked to believe anything?’

The scene quickly woke him up when Sandesh stood further away, his shadow ceasing from the boy's face.

“Chico de playa,” Blake murmured to Sandesh with a smile. Beach Boy. 

Will knew the basics of what Blake was saying, although, he cursed at himself for not paying attention in Spanish 2. 

The boy let out a groan and lifted a hand to cover the blaring sun. Pan took his place behind it, shielding the boy with his shadow.

His shadow. 

Will’s eyes widened with bright surprise. Pan had a shadow. Since when?!

The beach boy lowered his hand on his chest and lifted his head off the sand. 

“Welcome to Neverland,” Pan said, arms outstretched in an arrogant presenting style. 

The boy didn’t say anything. It was curious to watch him look over Pan. He memorized the words of Devin. 

“- my rage for those who dare cross you and not witness the same light I do.”

Will watched him carefully as the beach boy coiled his head back into the sand, took a deep, processing breath, and then opened his eyes to watch the clear sky above them. 

Will was caught off guard by how green those eyes were. Greener than grass, greener than emerald, as green as the sea on a warm evening, as Green as the leaves of Eden. If he weren’t careful, he would’ve fallen right into them and gotten lost in their vibrant hue.

Pan had darker eyes. His were flited in yellows, and deep browns like how the island looks at night. Dark like the sky, riddled with stars, like the air sprinkled with pixie dust, and as cunning as a snake in the Tree of Life, waiting patiently to strike.

His eyes caught Pan’s. Instantly, the comparison was there. “Where?”

Pan’s smirk deepened, and his dark eyes shot up at Blake. “Blake. Be a dear and give him the good ol’ fashioned tour, will you?”

Blake straightened up but Will practically leapt out from beside Pan. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

Pan tried to meet Will’s soft gaze with a glare, but Will didn’t allow it. He knew Pan wouldn’t ambush him when they were in the middle of a guest. It made him smile and reach out a hand to pick the beach boy off the sand.

Golden hair shook particles of grain over the boys, like rain on the street. Will smiled at him, a glimmer of understanding under his gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain it to you.”

Will took a short breath before swinging open the Cabin door. Devin was buried along with his most prized belongings. Some were kept by Pan per request to Felix. The room seemed remote from the rest of the world. The bed was freshly dusted and made with a pair of folded trousers and an animal skin shirt laid out for him. The sun blazed through the open windows and rested an orange path up to the headboard. 

The drawers were empty when Will opened them, the missing diary suddenly feeling heavy in his back pocket. 

“Someone else lived here?” The beach boy asked.

Will turned his head up to the blonde, who stood on the other side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Why?”

The beach boy lifted the pillow down to reveal lines and lines of days marked into the wood. It made Will’s stomachache as he counted each pair of fives. Devin guessed he was here for a few years. The pairs were countless as they traveled across the headboard. 

“What year is it?” Will suddenly asked, eyes locked on the headboard. 

“What?” The blonde said. 

“What year is it?” Will repeated. His voice was harsh and demanding.

“Fuck,” The blonde boy trailed off. “I don’t know… I don’t remember much.”

Will's eyes snapped to the blonde. “What do you remember?”

He paused. “My name is Rylan. I’m from Tampa Florida. I’m… supposed to turn 18 soon?”

Will took a minute to let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, Rylan.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna explain this to you in the quickest way I can, so get ready.”

Rylan glanced nervously around and smiled. “Okay…”

Will huffed and started walking around the room. “You're on an island. Not an ordinary island. Neverland. Yes- the fairytale- don’t- I know. It’s crazy. But I’ve been here for about a month, and I can confirm these things: fairies exist, pirates exist, magic is real, and as far as I can tell, you don’t age here. The king of this batshit crazy place is Pan. What you need to know about him is that he is a manipulative, arrogant, sadist who enjoys the pain of others and will inflict it on you if you don’t follow him.”

“He says ‘Jump,’ I say, ‘How far?” 

“Bingo.” Will snaps his fingers. “Only as of a few days ago, I become co-leader, and I’ve tried to escape this place like… two times? What you need to know is Pan likes us to be down at the main camp at the crack ass of dawn for us to eat and then go train.”

Rylan’s eyebrows furrow. “Train for what?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Will shrugs. “Shut up I’m talking. You will report to the main camp by sunrise, and we will be split into groups. Certain groups do certain chores like hunting, cooking, chopping wood…” He trails off with the last thing listed, suddenly remembering Pan’s conflicted gaze and calloused hands pinning him to the tree. “... Although that last might not be due for a few months.” He takes a breath to recollect himself. “After training is lunch and free period, you get to relax, I suggest taking a nap or exploring- Although- there are certain places you can’t go-”

“Where?”

Will’s eyes lock on Rylan’s, noticing a smirk being suppressed on the boy's face. “You asking to go explore them?”

Rylan smiled, an offended hand launching to his chest. “I would never!”

Will smiled. “I like you. There are places you can’t go though, for your own safety. For example, behind Pan’s treehouse.”

“What’s behind Pan’s treehouse?” Rylan asked. 

Will suddenly froze. 

“No…” Will’s voice broke out into a series of gut-wrenching sobs. “Devin!” His voice broke from the volume of it all. 

“Uhm,” he cleared his already clear throat. “Pan’s thinking tree. He goes there- I would suggest just not going anywhere near his cabin at all.”

“Alright,” Rylan nodded. “Anything other rules I can eventually break?”

“You're taking this surprisingly well.” Will looked at him suspiciously.

 Rylan grazed his fingers across the carves wooden bed frame. “Did you freak out when you got here?”

Will smiles softly. “I ran to the pirate ship when I realized where I was. I’m the only boy here who remembers anything.”

Rylan nods softly. “Probably why nobody else is adamant to leave.”

Will smiled at him, suddenly studying the way he stood. “Speaking of the boys… There’s uh… a few spots near the beach I’ve been planning on taking the boys to when Felix and Pan head to bed.”

“When do we go?”

Will thought about it. “Tomorrow night… actually.”

When they return to camp, the boys all welcome him with open arms. The most excited was Sandesh.

“Finally!” He groaned. “We need more boys here!” 

Blake swatted his head. “What, I’m boring you?!”

Sandesh inched teasingly in front of Blake's face with a sly smirk. “It’s you, not me.”

“Who’s been here the longest?” Rylan asked ignorantly.

Silence suddenly cast over the boys. It snapped away when a slam echoed above them. Felix was stomping out of Pan’s treehouse in a rage. 

“Him,” Jared said monotony.

“He looks friendly,” Rylan said. 

Once Felix’s boots hit the ground, he pounded toward the boys, his hood falling off his mess of blonde hair. 

“Hey, sunshine.” Sandesh joked. 

Blake shot up from beside Sandesh and jogged over to Felix. “What happened?”

Felix’s hand fisted Blake’s shoulder and tossed him to the side, making a B-line toward Will.

“Yo!” Jared and a few others shouted, suspecting another swing to Will’s face. They all protectively surrounded Will. Rylan watched it all from the sidelines. “Chill man! Chill!”

Nobody took notice of the duffle bag Felix held and tossed toward Will when he was halted by Jah’sir. 

“Hope you been enjoying being Pan’s little pet.” Felix spat with venom. “You're moving up, William. Hope you can take his heat.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Will shouted at him, now being held back by Jared.

“You're moving. There’s your shit. You better get moving. Pan doesn’t like waiting.” Felix shook his head, lips parting in disbelief. “But you’ll find that out soon enough, I’m sure.”

Will didn’t speak, shoving Jared out of the way and getting right up in Felix’s face. “You jealous someone else has his attention? Maybe I’ll get lucky and get a matching scar!”

Felix hounded him to the ground and punched him repeatedly, some hitting, some not. Will flipped him over and sucked his palms over the blonde's throat. Felix’s face reddened with emotion and cut off oxygen. The boys tear at them, trying to separate the two, but Will is too strong, and Felix is turning blue. 

“You’ll kill him!” Boys shout. Rylan watches it all with wide eyes and a small smile. 

Eventually, fingers rip into Will’s scalp and throw it like he weighs nothing to the side, away from Felix. Felix coughs with a smile.

“William!” Pan shouts, a scolding glare at him. 

Felix chuckles as the boys coddle him. "I'd kill myself to get away from you too."

Will can’t hear Pan. He can’t feel him when he lunges toward him again. He can’t feel those hands on his shoulders pining him to the dirt. He can’t see Pan’s now furious face break when tears weld into Will’s eyes. Why did he have to be so emotional? Did Pan not feel his anger? His rage? Will blinked his tears away and gave away his strength to Pan, sinking himself into the dirt. Tears fall silently over his temples as he looks up at Pan. He waited. Waited to be hit. Waited for yelling, shouting, screaming. But it never came. All he saw was Pan. Pan’s eyes widened with shock. Pan’s mouth saying something. He can’t hear him, but it could read his lips.

Are you okay?

He was asking him. Him of all people. Will nearly choked Pan’s best friend and the boy was here, a hand over his face, asking if he was okay. Truth was, he wasn’t. He was angry. Angry that Pan caused this. It was always Pan. Pan’s fault. Not his.  Will’s hand came up and clapped with Pan’s face. Shouts ensued as Will scrambled to his feet.

Pan followed suit. “William. Stop it.” Will walked away from camp. Toward Pan’s treehouse. Will wasn’t going up to unpack into his new home. He was heading behind the tree. “William!” Pan shouted after him.

“Let him go!” Felix shouted, snarling at Pan. “You’ve been babying him since he got here! He’s no broken than the rest of us!”

Pan turned around in a rage. To do what? Felix wasn’t sure. Nobody knew. But when Pan’s eyes met Rylan’s and flickered for a moment, Blake knew nothing would happen. Not in front of the new boy.

“Is he always this crazy?” Rylan said softly to no boy in particular. 

“Kinda.” Jah’sir shrugged. 

“He’s got fire,” Rylan nodded, walking off with Jah’sir as Pan teleported away. “I like fire.”

🟈🟈🟈

“William!” Pan manifested in front of Will, only to be pushed away as he descended further down the hilled path. “You can’t keep doing this!” Pan shouted after him.

Will didn’t answer. 

“You blow up and storm away!” Pan appeared in front of him. “Why are you so angry? Is it with me? I thought we’ve spoken about this-”

Will let out a frustrated scream that’s been bubbling since their conflict a night ago. “How arrogant of you to assume whenever I’m angry- It’s got something to do with you! Why are you obsessed with me?!”

Pan erupted in a fit of laughter, fueled by disbelief. “Obsessed?! And you call me arrogant! You know very well why I’ve focused on you!”

Will let his tears fall, his face trembling with rage. “God- it’s like everything that bad happens ends up being my fault! You blame everything on me! Like if I’m not perfect 24-fucking-7 then the island crumbles around me!”

“Nobody is asking you to be perfect!”

“IF I’M NOT PERFECT, THEN WHO IS?”

Silence casted around them as Pan closed his mouth, chin raising. 

Will, whose voice suddenly lowered with each breath, continued. “If I have the heart of the truest believer, if I’m the savior, if I can’t be… good… enough, then- everyone is gone.” Pan’s face crumbled, eyes shutting, as if he wanted to focus on his words. Will’s lips trembled and his voice broke. “I’m suffocating, Pan.”

Pan’s eyes open, now filled with understanding and emotion. “One thing about sharing a heart… especially with me… you feel what the other person is feeling. Will, I feel what the island feels. It can be… overwhelming to share that with someone.”

“I can’t do this.” Will shook his head. “I miss Devin. I miss my girls- my family.”

Suddenly, Pan’s hands wrapped around Will’s cheeks, holding him and looking him directly in the eyes. “You listen to me,” Pan spoke directly, but softly. “You are extraordinary.”

“Pan-”

“Shut up and listen. Will, you are extraordinary. Why do you think I didn’t take your heart for myself?”

Will looked into Pan’s forest eyes and huffed away his crying. “Why?”

Pan smiled at him and let his face go, hands dropping to the boy's shoulder. “Because no matter how insufferable you were, no matter how many times you disobeyed me, I saw potential in you to become the greatest of all boys. I see you rising above your station as people crumble to their feet around you, I see boys smiling around you, laughing, I see you inspiring change, hope, and whether you believe it or not, belief. You made me believe in you. And I won’t stand here in front of you and let you tell yourself that you can’t do it because you already have. The one you ever failed at was just believing in yourself.”

Pan stepped back, watching Will wrangle his words into a formed message. Pan watched him look behind Pan but the green-eyed boy knew nobody was behind him. He noticed Will does this when faced with a difficult decision. Pan theorized he was simply looking off to think, but now, he looked like he was watching someone. 

He was watching Claire smile at him. He was watching Addie and Clayton pick her up and smile at him. Will closed his eyes, wiped his tears, and looked back at Pan with such reconciliation, that it almost frightened him.

He smiled. “Extraordinary is a little strong, don’t you think?”

There it was. He was back.

Chapter Text

"They still write ballads about you, you know?"

He looked at me strangely, "Why?"

I shrugged. "You are a fairytale. A myth. People dwell on those."

He smiled to himself. "There is nothing mythical about taking what you want. It's okay to be selfish, you know?

... even if it's for a moment."

- A conversation I had with the Pied Piper.

🟈🟈🟈

“Why was Felix so angry with me?” Will asked Pan. He was sat on a stool beside Pan’s desk. Pan was busy tending to Will’s wounds. His eyes were focused and impatient.

“He just doesn’t understand why…” Pan trails off, suddenly pricking Will’s skin with a small thread. Will jumps and flinches his eyes shut. “... I just need to keep an eye on you. Can’t have you dying on me.”

“Right.” Will's eyes open, emotion drawn from his face. “Because that kills you.” Pan was silent. “What’s his story?” Will asks Pan before he pricked his skin again. 

“Felix?” Pan replied. “He was an orphan, stealing bread and beads for himself. After I understood what the shadow was doing, Felix arrived shortly after Devin.”

Will nodded gently. “Was he happy about being here?”

Pan was silent again, before answering after a long silence. “I think so.”

🟈🟈🟈

Will’s bare feet grip the hard rock as boys run past him and off of it. Their skinny boys hit the water with a loud splash followed by another scream of joy. Will was getting ready to jump. Blake suddenly grabbed his wrists and ran with him off the rock. They both hit the water after a few seconds of falling. It pinched their skin with ice-cold temperature, soaking their hair and trousers. Will’s eyes open in the seafoam green water to watch Blake above him swimming to the surface. 

All sound was ripped from him at this moment. Only soft echoes of screams and then to occasional splash of a body hitting the water. Feet dangled above him like string. The sun glared through the waves and left a soft yellow glow on Will’s face. 

He shut his eyes, listening to the water until he felt his body rising to the surface, then came the breath of air. 

The world seemed brighter compared to how it looked underwater, and the boys all cheered as Jared flew into the water. Jah’sir followed but yielded abruptly, eyes wide with fear at the deep unknown blue. 

🟈🟈🟈

“What about Jah?” Will asked, followed by another sharp pinch. “He seems so quiet. Devin… he said didn’t speak much English when he got here.”

“What’s with the sudden interrogation?” Pan asked, not entirely defensive about the subject. 

“All the boys seem to have a reason why they’re here.” Will shrugged as Pan tied his stitch. “What’s his?”

Pan stepped back onto his heel and rummaged around in his desk drawers, looking for something. Will watched him patiently like a child, hands in his lap. Then, Pan shut the drawer, taking out a small pouch and dumping the contents onto the already cluttered desk.

Will didn’t know what was in the small bottle, but it glowed. It wasn’t fairy dust. It was darker, and thicker in consistency. Pan didn’t let him know either, dabbing a cloth with the oil bottle gently and looking back at Will.

“Jah’sir…” Pan kneeled before Will, cleaning up and numbing scratch marks that didn’t need stitching. “Jah’sir was a slave owned by the Anderson families. When he was thrown on a ship to South America, the shadow brought him here.” Will was quiet this time. “He spoke little English, and I found that most of the boys had a language barrier, so I talked to the Shadow and it set a spell over the island. Everyone could speak their native language, and we could as understand each other.”

“Sounds like it brought them together,” Will spoke quietly, making an effort not to move as the soft gray cloth smeared over his jaw and collarbone. Will was suddenly entirely aware of how vulnerable he was in this moment. Shirtless, numb, bruised, and bled, and at the mercy of Pan’s healing.

“You have a better perception of that than me.”

“You struggle with making friends?” Will joked.

Pan lifted the cloth away and let the oil fall back on it, going in for a second coat. “Just the intimacy of relationships.”

Will had to force himself to breathe or else he would continue to turn red. “Yeah… Felix mentioned…”

Pan’s eyes snapped toward Will, a dangerous warning. “No- He just- I asked about- cause…” He thought of an excuse. “The fairytale. Y’know?”

That seemed to soothe him slightly because he went back to tending to Will’s wounds. 

“Keep talking.” Will requested quietly. 

“Keep asking questions, them,” Pan replied.

Will thought for a moment. “Tell me about Jared.”

🟈🟈🟈

Jared would come up behind Will and under him under the water once more. It would take almost all his strength to return the favor. Water flooded over Jared's dark face as a smile erupted, bubbles rising up from his lips. 

Will ceased and swam as quickly as he could away.

🟈🟈🟈

“Jared Jefferson,” Pan smirked. “I liked him the most.”

Will watched as Pan took the cloth to the older’s abs, cleaning the blood away.

“Jared was running from the police when he arrived here. He got here looking scared and terrified. He couldn’t understand why.” Pan removed the cloth and took gauze from beside the knife on his desk. “Turns out, his father was a dud. A proper one at that. The worst of the worst. He involved Jared in all sorts of violence. Robbery, breaking into people's homes, destruction of personal property… the works.”

“So, he was running because they caught ‘em?” Will asked. 

Pan smirked and gestured for Will to stand up. Once they both got to their feet, Pan carefully wrapped the gauze around the claw mark gashes around Will’s stomach. 

“One day,” Pan started, slow and dark. “Jared got involved between his father and mother. His father was taking his anger out on her, and Jared put a stop to it. Jared took a piece of cut glass and stabbed his father. A few times. Before he beat him to death with his fists.”

Will’s stomach sank. “Jesus…”

Pan stopped circling him and briefly grabbed his waist, tugging firmly on the gauze. His teeth found the white cloth and tore it from the ring. Will watched as Pan stuck the gauze on the side of his stomach and took a firm look at it before returning to his previous stance. 

His stomach sank lower.  Jesus…

🟈🟈🟈

Will comes back up from the water and looks over at Blake and Sandesh. Blake dunked Sandesh under the water, just like how Jared did to him. 

🟈🟈🟈

Will cleared his own throat and took a seat back on the stool. “What about Sandesh?” he asked. “I mean- I already found out about his mom, but I don’t know the details.”

“Suicide,” Pan said with no empathy whatsoever.

Will almost didn’t want to ask. “Blake?”

Pan’s face dropped at the sound of the boy's name. His voice was cold as it spat the word like it was poison on his tongue and disgusted him. “Molested. He ran from home.”

🟈🟈🟈

Will thought it was Jared you ripped Blake from the surface. Judging by the scream Sandesh let out, it wasn’t anything human. 

Blake was under the water as fast as Will was diving in to grab him. The water slowed him down, and he couldn’t reach his hands quick enough to grab Blake’s wrist.

Rylan leaped quickly after Will. Rylan was faster than him. His limbs were graceful in the water like he was born there, like he was meant to swim, to dive. He was meant for the water, and it didn’t matter how deep the water got, or how hard the pressure ached, Rylan swam deeper and deeper until he could grab Blake’s wrist and kick the siren straight in the nose like you would a shark.

The siren screeched, and it was heard through the water. A terrible scream, but she did let go of the boy. The two scrambled back up to the surface.

“Blake!” Sandesh called from the shore. The boys swam to the beach when Rylan and Will dove in for Blake. 

Blake coughed out all the water he could have. “I’m okay!’ He heaved, clutching Rylan. 

“Where’s Will?!” Jared shouted, eyes wide with fear. All the boys looked around and then back at the water. 

🟈🟈🟈

Will looked out the window where the stool sat. He looked down at all the boys, who sat around the fire as night approached them. He looked past the boys into his reflection in the window. His hair was still damp from the ocean, his white eyes red, his face scratched up and bruised, his contoured chest stained with blood.

 He looked back at Pan. His hair looked dry, but not even he could hide the dampness of it. Pan couldn’t hide the tear of his pants near the ankle and the gash he was bandaging up on his bed. 

He shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have even thought about it. To even consider he was capable of feeling what the rest of the boys felt…

And yet, his voice was shaky and nervous as it called out to Pan. Pan eyes raised, not in fury, but in genuine curiosity.

“Yes?” Pan replied.

Will eyes Pan’s ankle. His damp hair. His strong hands have saved him countless times before. His eyes held islands, coasts of sand, and lush green. They began to look at him with concern when Will didn’t ask right away. 

“What’s yours?”

🟈🟈🟈

Will tried to pry the mermaid away, punch, kick, but the siren was stronger than him. Her claws cast over his shirt, ripping it and digging into his skin. The water around him ran a milky red. She leaped for his throat, choking him and pining him to the bottom of the reef. Pressure reeled in Will’s temples, and his ears popped and ached with every second. He let out a gasp of air, only to choke on water filling his lungs. 

The siren smiled a wicked smile and let out the most beautiful song. It would’ve enchanted him if he wasn’t in the process of drowning. His chest pounded and his heart was ripping out of his ribs. 

Will could feel his eyes growing tired, his muscles relaxing, and his vision darkening. He wasn’t sure if it was the siren song, or the water suffocating him, but regardless eventually he grew grossly unconscious, and the clock ticked. 

After a few seconds, someone dived in. It wasn’t a lost boy. It wasn’t a pirate. It was someone stronger. Will could hear the scream of the siren and tasted the salty blood on his tongue. A hand ripped Will up from the reef floor and carried him to the surface. 

When they reached the air, the boys cheered and came running as they both collapsed onto the beach. Pan heaved, his hair drenched and dark. He scrambled for Will and held the pulse under his jaw. He thumped lightly under the pads of his fingers. Pan lifted a hand under Will’s nose. He wasn’t breathing. 

Boys crowded around them, and Blake never looked so extremely worried. Not only was Will important to all of them, but they had never seen Pan like this. Pan looked paler, weaker, and dare Blake think, more human. Of course, he did. Will was dying, and therefore so was Pan. Pan’s breath was short and focused as he palms Will’s bleeding abdomen.

Breathes stopped around him when Pan’s lips met Will’s. Pan gave him all the air he could. Then repeated the pulsating movements for what seemed like hours. His lips met Will’s again, then his chest, then his lips again, until Pan was hitting Will’s chest like some madman.

“Get up!” Pan shouted at him, slapping Will’s cheek with Pan’s red hands. Will’s blood dripped from his cheek. “Get up, God-dammit! I’m not losing-”

Will’s mouth belched out liters of water as he curled over to his side in fits of coughing. Breathes exhaled around Will and Blake leaped for him, one hand on his back, and one on his face. 

“You idiot!” Blake shouted, embracing him.

🟈🟈🟈

Pan doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t even move. For a moment, Will thinks he might lean over and drop unconscious, but then his fingers fly into fists. 

“You can go now,” Pan says softly, but with such demand, it’s almost impossible not to obey. 

Will rises from the stool and walks toward the door. Once his hand is around the knob, he turns to see Pan one last time. He was met with a swinging animal skin and the sound of footsteps away from him. 

Will tries to conjure up something to say, but no words erupt. He was met with painful silence as he closed the door behind him. 

🟈🟈🟈

“I’m okay.” Will heaves. 

“No-” Blake says, “You’re bleeding-”

“Who-?” Will isn’t listening, and eventually, his eyes meet Pan, who is on his back on the sand. At first, he is scared he’s unconscious. His fears are met with the boy rising to his feet, blissfully out of breath, hair soaked, and hands red with Will’s blood. 

He had his answer. 

Chapter Text

I never thought I'd find myself fighting pirates in Neverland, but that's exactly what happened today. It all started when I was out exploring the island with Peter. We were having a great time, playing games and telling stories, when we suddenly heard a loud noise. We ran to the edge of the island and saw a ship approaching. It was a pirate ship. The pirates jumped off the ship and started to attack us. We were outnumbered and outgunned, but we fought back bravely. Peter led the charge, and we followed close behind. The battle was fierce, and many of my friends were injured. But in the end, we were victorious. We drove the pirates back to their ship and watched as they sailed away. I'm still shaking but Felix says that I'll get over it. I never like fighting. I can't remember why.

- D.E.

🟈🟈🟈

Will knows this is a dream. And yet still he lets it haunt him. As he rises from his top bunk sheets, he tries to let himself get used to the foul smell. He flipped his head down to the bottom bunk, his hair floating over his forehead. Adelaide sat on her bed, nose in her phone. She looked up, then back on her phone. 

He didn’t ask her where the girls were when he dropped his feet down on his carpeted floor. He didn’t kick dirty clothes away and as he came out of his shared bedroom, he looked across the hall to see his little sister’s room trashed, messy, and door open. 

He didn’t frown, instead, he tried desperately to memorize the stains on the white door, the sharp blue curtains, and the smell of baby powder. 

From the final steps, he spotted his mother, wide awake, fiddling with the curtains.

Will didn’t say anything. He memorized his mother’s increasingly thin figure and hated how he missed her fatter stomach, fuller cheeks, and thicker hair. He shouldn’t have to miss it in the first place. 

“I’m fixing the curtains.” His mother said. “I found these at Goodwill last night. I spray painted them and now I’m trying to assemble them- Hey!” She snapped. “The house was trashed last night! I thought you were supposed to watch the girls.”

“I’m sorry,” Will said softly. “I should have been here.”

Suddenly, Ira, who was only 2 years old, made a beeline for the kitchen, her diaper sinking into the floor.

Will carefully scooped her up and took her into the living room to change her. 

“Oh yeah,” His mother replied, looking back with her dilated pupils. “Can you change her?”

Will didn’t reply, and once he was done, he cradled the child to his chest and listened to her babbling. Her peach skin was soft and untouched by the cruel world. He held her, with such soft care of the mother they practically didn’t have, and walked into the kitchen, where the smell rotted. He spotted the red light indicating the stove was on. 

He didn’t look at the nail on the pan, only the open pantry, cluttered counters, and piling sink. 

“Why are you shouting?!” His mother screamed. “I was trying to loosen- You're making the baby cry!”

Ira began to whine on Will’s shoulder. The mother stomped into the kitchen and took the child from the arms of Will.

“I’m sorry.” That is all he said. That is all he kept saying. 

The mother stepped up the stairs, hushing the crying child. “Addie took her to the park.”

Will nodded gently, turning off the stove. Taking the hot pan, which had been hot for who knows how long, he ran cold water over the nail, watching it stick to the steel. He watched the water run black and sink between cluttered dishes like rivers through canyons. 

He looked above the sink and out the window. The sun glared at him in a different way than it did on Neverland. He wondered if they shared the same sun. The same moon. 

He watched that moon. He never left the house and instead stayed sat on the couch with Claire snuggled softly in the dip of his shoulder.

Gently, he carried the sleeping toddler up the stairs and lad her softly into his bed. He dragged his blanket out from under her and laid it softly over her tiny shoulders. As he closed the creaking bedroom door shut, he peeked into his mother’s room. Her body lay practically lifeless on her sheets, her phone dropping out of her hand. Wine and beer cascaded around the shelves. He took a breath and stepped into her bedroom. 

Will kneeled before his mother and kissed her cold head. Her skin was scabbed and dry, her hair clinging to any moisture or oil it had. He had to toss his mother’s laundry off the bed to lie next to her. Surely enough, she had come down from a meth-induced high and her body was still and her fingers twitched every so often. Will watched this all with careful eyes until he laid a blanket over her in a similar fashion. He wrapped his hand around her palm and squeezed. Cold. He didn’t pray for difference. He wanted his mother. His real mother. Not this monster that consumed her body and ate away at her flesh like a soul-sucking parasite. 

He laid his head on a pillow beside her and memorized the bubbled ceiling and the smell of incense, diapers, burning glass, cigarettes, beer, weed, baby powder, lavender, rain, diapers, iron, meth, wine, sage, wipes until he woke up and smelled pine, wood, rain, hemlock, cedar, eucalyptus, ink, old paper, and campfire ash. 

His ceiling was taller and staked with wood. His pillow was firmer, his blanket’s heavier, his mattress sinking and melting around his body. He raised himself up and looked around his new cabin.

This cabin was larger and separated his bedroom from the rest of his space. Separated by a frame lacking a door. Beside his bed, laid a desk. Bare and lacking except for two journals, sacked evenly on top of one another. His and Devin’s are made of the same leather and brown paper. He looked to his right, and there lay a wardrobe a bit taller than him. It, as the desk, lay empty. The boarded walls were dull and dark with no windows. 

It suffocated him. He tried to remember how his room always smelled like eucalyptus and incense. He would have to find some similar smells here. Maybe attempt to make oils like the ones he had in his drawer. 

He looked back at his ceiling and gently reached up as if he were reaching up for someone to grab his wrist and pull him away. His arm felt suddenly heavy and fell back beside him. 

Then, he rose out of bed and crossed into the main room. He didn't want to memorize this room. He didn’t study any corner to feature of it. Frankly, it disgusted him. He made a beeline for the door when suddenly, his hip caught the edge of a table and dragged it forward, flying its content to the floor.

“Fuck,” he curses gently, soothing the sharp pain with his palm. He glanced down at the floor and eyes a shiny bottle. 

Plucking it off the hardwood, he raised it in the light. Some kind of oil that when he smelled it, smelled strongly of citrus.

He kneeled and lifted a sheet of paper that lay under it. 

For your wounds -P

Will looked beyond the paper, out to the window, and stepped forward to look out of it. The boys had not gotten up yet, and for once, he was the first to wake. However, judging by the occasional thud coming from above him, Pan was also an early riser. 

He caught himself smiling at the paper quickly folded it and tossed it into the garbage. Then it thought about it and plucked it out, stuffing it into his back pocket. He would use it for firewood later, and for nothing else, he promised himself.

🟈🟈🟈

The air was thick as was the tension between the lost boys. Will woke them up with a harsh knock and demanded them down at camp. Will left Pan in his treehouse, he would join them soon enough. Some boys were grumpier than others, Felix especially. He hated his new place among the boys. Yes, he still was the second in command, but Will was still above him. Will would always be above him, no matter how high Felix climbed. 

Will break them all up into groups of two groups of two, with one group of three for training. He would trust Rylan with Blake in that group with him. The remaining four were split for hunting and cleaning. Sandesh and Jared went hunting, while the two taller ones stayed and cleaned. Will needed to keep an eye on Felix, he wouldn’t have Felix try anything.

As the boys split up down the paths, Pan finally made his way down to camp.

“Not bad,” He praised. Felix scowled only to be elbowed by Jah’sir. The blonde watched distastefully as Will smiled brightly at Pan.

“I figured we ‘d get a head start on the day,” Will replied.

“Have plans, do we?” Pan said, 

Will glanced nervously behind him at Jah’sir and Felix. “I figured I might show the new guy around some more.”

Pan’s face contorted into something suspicious. Will knew exactly what he was thinking, he could feel it. His chin lifted in expectation.

“I need you to trust me,” Will said under his breath. Unfortunately, Felix heard this and let out a loud enough scoff for Pan’s eyes to glance back at him.

Will followed his eyes, glaring back at Felix. He pictured how he would take him down he decided to try anything. 

Pan’s voice was louder than Will’s, this time, making sure Felix heard him. “I do trust you.”

Will looked back at Pan with the same intensity. “Considering my history, I imagine how difficult it is to.”

Pan didn’t agree. He just looked past him at Felix. “I suspect you’ll be on your best behavior this time, Felix?” His voice was like splinters into skin; a threat unsaid. Will didn’t want to picture what rage Felix succumbed to Pan after the blonde attacked him. The thought of Pan punishing Felix caused a feeling of unapologetic shame in Will’s mind. He pushed the thought away.

“It’s not me you should worry about,” Felix mumbled loud enough for them to hear. 

“Watch it.” Pan snapped, returning to Will. “I will return at the end of the day. Try not to kill our boys.”

The word ripped the shame right back up in the back of Will’s throat. It wasn’t nausea, Will was sure about it. Our boys, Will thought. The belief Pan had that they shared more than Will’s heart. They shared Pan’s boys. Will tried to conjure up the calmest laugh, careful not to let his voice squeak in shock at the word used.

“Darn it.” Will chuckled. “I was planning on taking them to the cliffs later.” Pan looked at him unamused. “Kidding.”

Pan let his smile come back as he walked off. When he was fully out of view, Will realized how long he had stood to watch him walk away. 

“Adorable.” Felix spat as soon as Pan was out of earshot. “Like a kicked puppy waiting for their owner to come back home.”

Will sighed gently, chin to his chest. “Familiar with the feeling are we?”

Felix snarled at him but was shooed back by Jah’sir. 

“Sit ‘cho crazy ass down, would ya?!” Jah shouted at him. “Always hatin’, for what?”

Will chuckled, watching the two towers of boys bicker. “Thanks, Jah.”

“I gotcha man.” Jah picked up from paper off the floor and tossed it into the descending fire. “I got some extra venison and egg, you hungry?”

Will shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna head over to the training grounds to check on Rylan, you good with him?”

Felix rolled his eyes and kicked a spare cup on the ground like a toddler in a tantrum. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You’re right,” Will said. He tried to remember what Pan told him about his trauma. In all reality, Felix has abandonment issues, and Pan wasn’t doing well fueling that kind of fire by replacing him with Will. “however, I’m not the one that needs convincing. Prove to Pan that you don’t need one.”

Felix's face softened and huffed out his frustration. Jah gave him a knowing look, and Will returned it before the short boy turned for the paths. 

🟈🟈🟈

The sunset over the trees as Will walked with Blake and Rylan back to camp. Will had memorized the trees that surrounded the dirt by then, knowing they were closer by a berry bush or a broken branch or the way the sun glared at them through the leaves. Blake was a few yards ahead of them, leading with the occasional kick of a rock or pick of a fruit in a bush.

“Listen,” Will started, realizing the silence started to bother him. “I know this is all kind of a mess right now. Honestly, it was just as chaotic when I first arrived.”

Rylan shrugged. “I just don’t get why that kid hates you so much.”

“It’s a lot to explain,” Will came to a halt, gently stepping in front of Rylan. “But Pan needs to survive. He needs me to keep this island alive.” 

“How?” Rylan replied. “I mean- what are you? Some kinda of save the turtles guy?”

Will let out a small laugh, returning to walking slowly. “I guess. I just can’t leave the island.” His voice got slow, sad, and melancholy. Then he stopped and turned to Rylan. “But you can.”

Rylan’s eyebrows furrow. “How?”

Will looked back and watched Blake continue walking, not noticing their absence. “I had a plan to leave, but I couldn’t do it. It would’ve worked-”

“Why couldn’t you do it?”

Will crunched his lips together in annoyance. Why did he always have to bring Devin up? “The boy… Devin was supposed to do it with me. He, uhm... Didn’t make it.”

“The boy who used to live in my cabin?” Rylan asked, eyes wide. “How dangerous is this plan?! If he couldn’t do it, what makes you think I can?”

“You just have to trust me-”

“You say that a lot,” Rylan stepped back. “Especially for someone who gave up on himself.”

Will closed his eyes and let out, yet another, huff of frustration. “You don’t understand- If I could leave, I would!”

“Why can’t you?!” Rylan’s voice echoed through the trees, but Blake was already out of sight to hear it. “You say I have a family back home- don’t you?! What about the others? Why me?!”

Will's voice erupted like a pent-up volcano, burning everything around him to plasma and ash. “Because he needs me!”

Rylan shook his head. “And your family doesn’t?”

Will turned back to the path and started to walk away. “Nevermind. This is what I get for trying to help people.”

“Will!” 

Will stopped, closed his eyes, thought about leaving, and stood still. 

“Whatever this plan is, I’ll do it,” Rylan said softer. “But you have to promise me you’ll try to come home with me.”

Words of, “I can’t,” and “I don’t want to,” blur together like one big rubbing in his stomach that ached and pried under his skin.  

“I promise,” Will mumbled. 

Rylan nodded. “Okay,” Then came his bright smile and an arm that twisted around Will’s neck. His voice roars through the trees and rips the birds out of their nests and into the sky. “WE RIDE AT DAWN MOTHERFUCKER!”

Chapter Text

"Hook's hand lost to time,
Pan's laughter, a chilling chime,
Cruelty in his prime.

Wendy's plea ignored,
Tinker's light can't pierce his scorn,
Innocence is torn.

Pixie dust now black,
Evil in emerald slack,
Boys under attack.

Peter's shadow man
Lost boys drown in sand.
Nightmares in Neverland."

- D.E.

Devin’s journal was mulled with and mutilated with charcoal pencil. The paper covered with leather held heavy in Will’s hands. With every page turn, another boy left for bed with the moon climbing higher in the sky. Will couldn’t tear his eyes away from the cursive writing. Perhaps somewhere, he would find a secret Devin was keeping. Rylan’s and his plan seemed foolproof, but executing it was the difficult part. Finding the window of time. Maybe the next page would tell him how to leave the island in an easier fashion than just telling him over and over again how much nicer Pan was before Wendy showed up. 

His eyes caught the fire before water cascaded over it by Felix. Gray smog lifted from the ashy logs of wood and blurred his silhouette when he walked away, a grumbling expression across his face. 

Wendy. How did she leave?

The only boys who were around when she was would be Felix, Jah’sir, and maybe Sandesh. He didn’t have a solid timeline of when the boys arrived, but he did guess what time period they were from. Depending on how long Wendy was on the island, he could also calculate how long a day is when-

As if he could read his mind, Pan plopped next to him. “You can’t calculate how time passes in a place where it stands still.”

Will instinctively shut Devin’s journal and acted natural, like his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“You were writing their names down in order of when they got here,” Pan answered. He pointed back to the journal. “Only Sandesh wasn’t around when Wendy was.”

Part of him sunk in disappointment, the other half, leaped up in surprise at the mention of her name. Maybe he was warming up to him? Will looked around and saw no other boy around them. 

“Why are you so curious about her?” Pan asked him.

Will shrugged. “Wasn’t she like… your girlfriend?”

Pan let out a proper cackle, chin lifting to the sky, and his body leaning back. He wiped his eyes and collected himself. Will didn’t laugh. He was too afraid to move. 

“You boys and your theories.” Pan mumbled, sighing to himself. “She was more like a motherly figure.”

“Like the fairytale?” 

Pan took a shallow breath. “Tell me it.”

“The story?”

Pan dropped his smile and gazed up to the moon. “It seems we all have different perspectives on what happened.”

“If I tell you mine,” Will trailed off, careful not to step over the invisible line too much. “Will you tell me yours?”

Pan’s eyes blink down, and a harsher breath leaves his lips. “One day, perhaps.”

Will huffed, looking back at the dull black log that still smoked and huffed. Little sparks of orange and yellow floated and spun in the air like fairies or leaves in the fall. He closed he eyes and tries to recall the tale. “Peter Pan…” He spoke, quickly dragging Pan’s attention to him. “...is a story about a boy who does not want to grow up. He lives in Neverland, along with a group of 'lost boys,' a fairy named 'Tinker Bell,' and the pirate named Captain Hook. Pan becomes friends with the Darling children, who leave their homes to come to Neverland with him.” He opens his eyes, getting most the story out of the way. “Wendy and the boys are captured by pirates, Pan saves them. Wendy is obviously smitten with Pan; she even tries to kiss him. Pan is crude and mean, but with the kind of obliviousness and ignorance a little boy has. Eventually, Wendy convinces Pan to take her back home.”

Will’s eyes meet Pan’s, who are gently fixed on the same absent fire. With a flick of his wrist, the flames erupted and bursted, returning to the black log. His eyes casted down in shame. “For a theory, it’s pretty spot on.”

“... but not how it actually happened?” Will asked, watching the green-eyed boy disassociate. 

His voice was firm, commanding, and stern. “No.” Will nodded, sensing the tension and reopened Devin’s journal. Pan’s eyes caught the journal. “Was he scared?” Pan asked gently. 

Will jutted the journal back, but then let up, resting it open on his lap. “He was…” He tried to find the word in the flames. “...curious.”

Pan smiled. After a moment, he raised himself up. 

“Were you?”

Pan turned. “What?”

Will wished he would disintegrate right in this moment. He wished he would melt into the ground or burn to ash in the fire. Yet, he asked again. “Were you afraid?”

Pan eyes never left Will’s, and his answer was quick. “No. I dreamt of this place. You would never feel lost or afraid when your home. Would you?”

Will paused. “You'd be surprised.”

A drawing was left open on Will’s lap that Pan eyed. “The boys are asleep.” Pan said. “If you're up for it, I can you show you that.”

Will looked down at drawing. “Oh- I mean…”

“I can show you where he sat to draw it.”

Will glanced back at Pan and thought about it for less than a second. “Show me.”

Pan’s eyes glimmered in the moonlight as a mischievous smile filled his cheeks.

They traveled west, away from pirate's cove and to the shore of the island. The full moon shined down on the sand. Pan climbed a few boulders and gestured for Will to follow. As he climbs up the rock, he could feel his feet spike in sudden pain at the ice-cold rock. Still, he climbed up, using Pan’s hand for assistance on a particular jump until they get to a flat surface upon the rock. Pan guided him to the exact spot where Devin sat and stood behind him. 

The moon glazed over the ocean, its bright full sphere pulling the waves away and back onto the chore with a crash that echoed through the trees. The bitter wind breezed past Will’s face and neck, leaving him with pricked skin and raised hair on his forearms. Ocean salt teased the humid air, lifting Will’s nose in the hair and pulling his eyes closed in a blissful deep breath. His eyes open at the shimmering stars above them. He counted them, picking out more as his eyes traveled across the sky.

“Beautiful..” Will says, looking over at Pan who looked back at him. 

“Isn’t it?” Pan smiles, quickly looking onto the moon, as if he was looking at it in the first place.

Will didn’t look back. “Is it the same one?”

“What?”

Will looked away so Pan wouldn’t catch him staring. “The same one in… the real world?”

A smile appeared on Pan’s face like a secret only for Will to have. “Why do you insist on calling it that? As if this is a dream and you will wake up soon…”

“Sometimes it feels that way. Sometimes, a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Sometimes, a blissful dream I want to feel just one second longer.”

Pan walked beside Will and shrugged. "Sounds real life to me.”

Will glanced back at Pan and watched him study the moon. He looked at the moon like he did him. “What was yours like?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Lonely.”

“You keep using that word for everything. Expand it.”

Pan smirked at him. “Very lonely.”

Will playfully shoved him, a smiling hiding behind his words. “Fuck off,”

Pan laughs. He really laughs. And for a moment, Will wouldn’t mind if he didn’t wake up for a few more seconds. The brunette stepped back and kneeled on the rock. With a pencil in his hand, he raised the journal and tried to draw Pan.

Green eyes catch him before he could get to drawing them. 

“Don’t move.” Will commanded softly. 

Pan stays and smiles at him, that same smile he only had for him. A crinkle in the eyes, sharp white teeth, soft lips. Will was too concentrated to feel the sinking in his stomach when Pan reached over to look at it. His eyes scanned it like it was a paper to be graded, then they met Will. Suddenly, he was the paper. He was the art and the artist. Two worlds collide that Pan’s eyes couldn’t decide to choose. Do or don’t. Reach out. Pull away. Pull closer. Falling forward or don’t fall at all. Falling. His body was falling, and his stomach was sinking. He knew this feeling. And he almost made him sick to know who made him feel this way. 

Pan gave it back to him and Will raised himself up, brushing his thighs and reaching out his hand for Pan. He didn’t realize what he was doing until Pan’s hand became butter through his fingers and pulled it up with such ease it almost frightened him. Pan’s body was magnetic like it was attracted to Will’s. The brunette had to step back give space when his foot caught a loose boulder and tripped back.

Pan’s hand yanked Will’s wrist back, but only had him falling with Will off the rock and into the ocean with a crash. 

When Pan reached air, he called for the boy, panic flooded his body. Screams erupted through his throat, screams the island never heard before. 

“WILL!” 

He looked around for him, but all he could see was Ocean, over and over again. He knew the mermaids never dared to attack him, so he quickly dived under the lapis-colored water. As if it was any better, dark ocean void surrounded him like a nightmare he had a few nights ago. 

Until he couldn’t last another second, his breath caught the salt air and choked as it screamed again, “WILL!”

Hand’s wrapped around Pan’s thighs, and for a moment, he thought the mermaids had dared to try to kill him. It was only when instead of going under the water, his body flew up and was tossed back in, followed by a familiar cackle. 

Will’s hair was somehow darker than it was dry. The curly locks wrung into coils and stuck to his forehead and his brightly smiling cheeks. 

Pan’s worried face then was replaced by a reflection of Will’s amused laughter. This resulted into a playful war of who could sneak up on who the fastest. First, it seemed like Pan was the expert, but Will overpowered his strength and could tackle him under the water. The tide carried them to the shore till Will's feet carried him down the beach. As he ran down the beach, footprints guided Pan to follow him down, a matching pair catching up until Pan teleported in front of him and shoved him back in the water. When Will threw a handful of sand at him, he screamed, “That’s not fair! No powers!”

“No shore!” Pan kicked water at him, a bright smile at him. 

Will lunged for Pan’s midsection, tackling him back into the water. This lasted until they both washed on shore in a heave of short breathes. 

“Did you ever do this… with Felix?” Will asked.

Pan paused, pressing his cheek into the sand to look over at Will. “Felix didn’t share my heart.”

Something was underneath those words. Something said. Will didn’t dare think about it too much. 

Will tore off his shirt and said, “I’m gonna head to the springs.”

Pan’s eyes lingered. “Why?”

Will blinked. “Because I smell like salt water and there's more sand in my scrap then strands of hair.”

“You smell fine.” Pan rolled his eyes. “As for your hair-” He snapped his fingers and Will returned clean of sand, still smelling like the ocean.”

Will’s eyebrow shot up. “Like the smell of whale sperm and fish shit do you?” 

“Why must you ruin a perfectly good thing?”

“I can’t not. It’s too tempting.”

Pan’s eyes lingered to Will’s dry chest, over his toned arms, carved legs, dark fluffy hair, then his flushed face. “Isn’t it...”

Heat rushed to the brunettes' cheeks as Will quickly walked around Pan and over to his shirt. “Goodnight.” Will spoke quickly. 

No answer, and when he turned, Pan was gone. He teleported away into his Cabin.

Coward, Will thought. 

🟈🟈🟈

Pan’s chestnut hair laid against his pillow, face hot and eyes wide. He dragged his hands over his eyes and cheek and let out a groan of frustration. What an insufferable boy. He glanced over at his drawer and opened it with a hang reaching over. It was the sketch Will had made of Pan. He studied his own features those the lens of Will. His eyes were soft, hair cascading across his forehead like the waves did the shore. Pan grabbed a pencil and, on the back, he started to journal.

“From the moment I met you, I was drawn to you.” 

He erased it.

“You have this presence that commands attention and I couldn't help but be intrigued by you.”

Erased. 

“I got to know you and I realized that your strength not only lies in your physicality, but also in your character. You have faced challenges and overcome them with grace and determination, and that is something that I admire and look up to.”

This was also erased.

“However, I cannot deny that you have a knack for being incredibly annoying. You prance around this island like you own it, and you are the most important breathing being.”

Not erased.

“You deserve the world. You deserve all the love and happiness that this world has to offer. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”

Pan paused and didn’t erase it.

“I want to be close to you.” 

Erased.

“I want to let go with you.”

Pan tossed the drawing away and let out another loud groan of frustration. The drawing fell on the corner on his bed, the pencil laying with it. By the end of the night, all that was written on it read:

“I want to believe in myself, the way you believe in me.“

Chapter Text

“One bright morning goes so easy

Darkness always

Finds you either way”

-D.E.

“You busy?” 

Will had just split up the groups into their chores. Once again, he was paired with Rylan. Pan tried to pawn it off as Will trying to help Rylan adjust, but no boy needed this much adjusting. It didn’t matter how much time Pan tore away from the two boys, the blonde found himself with the Will. And right now? The two were getting ready to head down to hunting. Will was going to show him how to shoot a bow, whilst showing him where Tinkerbell’s treehouse hid in the towering trees. 

Will turned, just about to head down the path. “Uh- …kind of. Why? What’s up?”

Pan looked back at the awaiting blonde, who looked at Will like a mutt waiting for its owner. He held back a snarl and conjured a friendly smile. “It seems you’re needed…”

Needed for what, Pan never explained. But Will always knew. Pan needed him. Pan wanted to talk to him, hang out with him, or just be in his presence. 

“Pan…” Will said, stepping forward. “You’re hovering. I’ll be fine.”

Pan took a short breath and took the bait. “I know you are. But-”

“Will!” Rylan called out, unaware of their conversation. 

Pan’s sneering eyes caught over at Rylan. “You’re clinging to him.” He snarled under his breath.

“You’re clinging to me,” Will stated blankly and just as quietly.

Pan rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter- He’s just like you- I’m sure he’ll do fine on his own-”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Will stated. “Do you know how many times I’ve almost died?”

“Do you know how many times I was there to save your clumsy arse?”

“Will!” Rylan called again.

Will turned back at the blonde, who flapped his arms in the arm impatiently. “I have to go.”

Pan was quiet, chin lifted, and eyes quiet. Will knew this look all too well. He wore it when rejected or insulted. Will admired it. It didn’t look injured or offended. Just patient. Patient for the caller to take back whatever statement they had made. When Will stood his ground, his face crumbled into a dispassionate sigh. 

“You will return here before the sun hits the trees,” Pan ordered. Will let him. It was a small win on Will’s part. 

The brunette smiled at him as if he didn’t hear the blatant insulting order. He bowed his head. “Thank you.” He stepped back. “Whatever it is, we can… talk about it… later. Alright?”

Pan nodded, face still as a statue. As Will turned and caught up with Rylan, a dark silhouette floated beside Pan. 

“Follow them,” Pan ordered the Shadow.

🟈🟈🟈

“Can we walk through the plan, one more time?” Rylan asked.

“Shh!” Will hushed, kneeling behind bushes. “You’ll scare them away.”

Rylan’s eyes gazed over the brush and widened. One deer, a female, stood with her head in the grass. Two smaller ones followed her close behind. Her babies. The grass elevated over their elegant bodies, a simple barrier between their flesh and Will’s arrow. 

Rylan whispered gently. “They’re babies!”

“I’m not aiming for them,” Will replied, one eye closed.

Rylan squinted and spotted a much larger shadow behind them, stalking them and inching closer… and closer. 

“What is that?”

“Shh..”

The beast stopped slowly in the sunlight, its great paws pressing into the grass, their lime green cat-like eyes hidden behind the tall grass. It had to be 5 feet tall at least. Its body stretched back, its fluffy body still, and teeth bared. Will match its stillness.

Then came the scream that erupted out of its jaws. Its body sped to the deer, yard by yard. Rylan jumped in fear, hiding behind Will. 

“Shoot!” Rylan said.

Will didn’t speak. He watched as the deer scattered, her babies running close behind. The beast was faster. With every step was another second the arrow stayed knocked into Will’s bow. The Beast leaped into the air the tackle the doe and the arrow flew at lightning speed past blades of grass and split into the black iris of the beast. 

The doe scattered to the side and ran faster to their mother and sibling. Will quickly knocked another arrow and let it fly to the Beast. Rylan watched in amazement as the arrow stuck into the Beast’s neck and cut expertly through the jugular. Blood splattered against the tall grass as Will approached with his blade, Rylan following close behind. 

“What is it?” Rylan asked, watching as Will kneeled beside the heavy-breathing beast.

His fingers curl into the tight fur, gently petting its stomach as the beast falls slowly asleep and succumbs to death. 

“A tiger.”

“Weird ass tiger,” Rylan said under his breath. 

“As for our plan…” Will quickly sharpened his blade, ignoring his insult to the poor animal. “We talk to Tinkerbell about leaving the island with a shadow. Boys come to the island with one, so they can probably leave them too.”

Rylan’s face distorts into something unfamiliar.  

“Don’t worry,” Will said. “I will get the shadow.”

Rylan doesn’t seem relaxed by his statement. “Right… and after that?” 

Will continued petting the large animal, pressing the blade against the stomach. 

“You get the hell out of here.” He said and made the incision, blood quickly staining the fur and his fingers. 

🟈🟈🟈

Rylan carried the meat and other remains back to camp in a soft cloth tied over his shoulder. Will, as he was taught, buried the animal underneath the Neverland soil. One thing he knew and continued to learn throughout his experience on Neverland is this: the beings on this island were sacred. Their dying is a sacrifice and should be treated as one. Their bodies are buried and honored with care, giving them back to the island. It was pretty pagan-rooted, but Will didn’t mind. He appreciated the gesture. 

His mind was always quiet during this part. Blood dried over his knuckles and fingernails and turned a deep brown and crusted. He repeated the same mantra every time in his head. One he wrote in his journal a month ago.

“One bright morning changes all things,” He sang softly. “Soft and easy as your breathing you wake. Your eyes open at first a thousand miles away. But turning to shoot a silver bullet at point-blank range. And I can scarce believe what I'm believing in. Could this be how every day begins?”

Over and over again. Like he was singing to the animals, to the island. He taught Devin the song and the younger boy even wrote a second verse to it. Maybe if Will was lucky, he would have Pan play it on his flute. 

The tiger’s lifeless eyes were shut by Will’s fingers as he curled the soil over its face. Then came the hard thud behind him. He raised himself up carefully and turned, perfecting his fearlessness, no matter how scared he was. 

The Shadow stood a few feet away from him, eyes glowing a pale yellow. It stalked him, phasing through thick leaves and branches rooted in the grass. It didn’t speak. Will half expected it to pounce on him and tear his flesh. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t do that. However, there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t try.

“What do you want?” Will spoke after minutes of stalking silence. 

The Shadow was still silent but abruptly stopped in its tracks like it was surprised Will had spoken. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Will’s stomach that it had been watching him the entire time.

“Did Pan send you?” Will asked. 

“If you do this, there will be consequences.” There. It spoke. Will had forgotten that raspy echo and was quickly reminded why. It terrified him and his mind buried it and pretended that night on Skull Island never happened.

“OH MY GOD! IT SPEAKS!” Will shouts sarcastically.

The Shadow resumed its movement with one step closer. Will took one step back. “Rylan isn’t who he says he is. You are lying to him.”

“I’m not lying to Rylan.”

“Malcolm.” It called.

Will turned around for a moment, looking around for another boy. Nobody was around. Just him. “Who?”

“The boy you call Peter Pan.” It spoke. Will’s eyes squinted in confusion. His name wasn’t Malcolm… His name was Peter. “You and him, you may be raging storms, but you are each other's tranquility. If you leave-”

Will shook his head in distaste. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not leaving.”

“I see everything and hear everything here.” The Shadow snapped.

“Did Pan send you?!” Will repeated, getting increasingly more impatient.

The shadow ignored him, its voice booming and echoing through the trees.“If you leave, you will die!” 

“Are you deaf? I am not going anywhere.” Will snapped back. “Don’t go filling Pan’s head with lies!”

“You’ve already done that.” It spoke. “He should have taken your heart for himself. Why he didn’t, fails me to understand.”

Will finally understood why The Shadow was here. He turned his back to it, picking up his knife from the dirt. “Pan likes fun. I happen to be very fun.”

“You’re brainless.” The Shadow snarled.

“If you want to believe that to make yourself feel less alone, I’m happy to play a part in that delusion.” Will be stated simply.

“Was that an insult?”

Will turned. “Did it sound like a compliment?”

Suddenly, The Shadow lifted its hands and a force of great wind pinned Will against the tree. “It is not just your life that you're putting at risk.”

“Like Pan hasn’t already drilled be about that!” Will shouted back carelessly. 

“Not his own!” After a moment, its hand lowered and Will crumbled against the tree. “Call this off. Rylan doesn’t care about the boys like you do.”

Will’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “What will happen to them if I don’t?”

“Nothing you can change.”

The Shadow quickly manifested away when he was met with silence.

🟈🟈🟈

You know when somebody says that your life could change in a single moment? A single second? You look away once and suddenly you're in a car crash? Well, it only took a few seconds for word to get to Pan about Rylan and Will’s plan. It only took 3 minutes of Pan’s wrath for Rylan to confess his true intentions, and 4 minutes to beat Rylan and tie him up around a thick tree branch post. And it only took Will 10 minutes to return to camp. 

Will heard the shouting. The shouting was distinct. It wasn’t the shouting of joy or playful fear. It was anger. It was rage. Followed by protests by Rylan’s voice. His feet picked up within a few seconds of hearing the screaming. When he reached the main camp, he quickly analyzed the situation. Rylan was tied around a post, his arms and hands bent behind his back. Bruises and cuts were spotted around his face and arms as the boys surrounded him, fury and betrayal in their eyes. 

Jared was the first to throw a punch, and by the sound of his knuckle making contact with Rylan’s jaw echoing through the trees, Will almost thought he had broken the boy’s jawbone. Will screamed after the boys, heads turning back to him. Jared threw another before turning to Will, anger never leaving his dark brown eyes. 

Felix stomped toward him and shoved Will successfully to the ground. “Traitor!” He screamed as Will’s head hit the floor. 

They found out. The Shadow told them. No, Will thought, The Shadow lied to them.

Will tried to inch away, scrambling to his feet, “Let me explain!” Only for Felix to kick him straight back down with his boot. It was about now where he loathed the rule about being barefoot. 

“You never cared about us!” Felix screamed, his voice breaking as if he was distraught about it. “You were going to abandon us!”

“No-” Will detested. “I was- Rylan- Tell them!”

“Rylan was using you!” Blake, who stood beside Felix, looked down at him with the same disgrace. “¡Es un pirata asqueroso!”  He’s a filthy pirate!

Now, Will was truly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?!” He looked back at Rylan for a second time. “Rylan- Tell them! Tell them I wasn’t going with you!”

Rylan was silent, watching with dull eyes as Felix’s boot lifted in the air, and-

“Felix.” A commanding voice spoke behind Will. All eyes shifted and widened. 

Pan. 

Will scrambled to his feet, holding his chest in agony. “Pan-” he rasped, reaching out. The blonde swatted his hand away. “It’s not true- he’s lying to you-”

Pan didn’t move. It was the same stillness the last time they spoke. Some part of him wondered if this was what Pan wanted to speak about. Something he trusted him enough to think he wouldn’t do this. That Will wouldn’t leave him. His dark eyes looked right through Will like he never existed. In the moment, Will wondered what they looked like when he was in love. 

“Untie him. Rylan is a Lost Boy and The Shadow is lying.” Will pleaded. “I wouldn’t leave- I was- We were-”

“Untie him.” Pan looked beyond Will. It startled Will how fast Pan listened to him. Pan’s eyes looked back upon Will, but his voice still spoke to the boys. “Send him back to the pirates.” 

Will’s voice wavered between impatient command and mindless begging. “Please- Pan you can’t-”

“If you’re lying to me,” Pan’s voice was solid, commanding, and fueled by unbridled rage the boys only witnessed when Wendy asked to go home. “-and I find out otherwise,” He stepped closer to Will. “I will show you what happens to people who betray me.”

Will tried to keep his mouth shut, to keep his tongue in his mouth, but alas, “You wouldn’t kill me, even if I did.”

Pan’s face cocked to the right, his eyebrow shooting up. “You’re right.” There it was. The look Pan gave him when he first arrived. “I would kill him. While you watch.” He said with a smirk.

All at once, the wall was built back up, the mask was back on, and Peter-

No.

Malcolm … Malcolm was gone. 

Chapter Text

“It’s a long story,” Rylan explains as boys untie him. He is granted the right to walk back to the ship, escorted by Will and Felix. The two walk Rylan back down the path to the hot sand. The taller brunette stops in front of them. 

“Better talk fast then.” Will orders.

Felix is hesitant at first but grants their conversation after Will sends a glare his way.  

“I got here before you, and managed to join the pirates before Pan could get his hands on me.” Rylan glanced nervously at Felix, who stood staring dully at him unimpressed. The shorter blonde stepped toward Will, his voice low and careful “When I saw you and how scared you looked, I wanted to help you.” Felix was quick to rip Rylan and continue walking. Will followed. “Was I kinda pissed you lied to us? Yeah- but I’m a pirate, a little lying won’t get you killed by us, especially if it was to get away from Pan.”

“So, the pirates don’t want me dead?”

“Don’t go trusting him,” Felix warned.

“Shut up, Felix,” Will said. 

“Fuck you.” He replied. 

“No-” Rylan exclaimed. “Hell- we are just thrilled somebody isn’t under the demon’s spell!”

Will swerved around them and halted once more. “So, it’s true then? You were using me?”

Rylan’s eyes locked with Felix, who looked like he could burst the pirate into flames with just a snap of fingers. “Kinda.” Rylan pushed, looking back at Will. “If Hook had told me about that damn shadow, I wouldn’t have gone blabbering about it to the whole forest.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “How did Pan not recognize you?” 

“He never got a good look at me.” Rylan shrugged. “Plus, it’s been a while.”

Will nodded, looking off to the side. His eyes widened in realization and snapped back to the shorter blonde. “How long?”

“Will-” Felix jumped in.

“What?” Rylan asked.

Will ignored Felix’s protest. “How. Long. Has it been?”

“William!” Felix shouted.

Rylan shrugged. “Few years.”

“A FEW YEARS-”

Felix suddenly reached for Will’s forearm and shoved to the side to speak to him as privately as he could. “Enough of this. He needs to go back to where he came from.”

“Felix.” Will pleaded. “He needs to go home!”

“So, we're back on?” Rylan asked.

Felix’s eyes widen as his whole figure snaps around to Rylan. The shorter blonde retreats suddenly, sensing the shifted energy. Will gave him the same look. 

“You are back on doing what?” Felix asked, turning to Will. “You  are  leaving with him?!”

“No!” Will shouted, suddenly extremely frustrated at this miscommunication. “Felix- I was helping him leave- I wasn’t going anywhere!”

Felix laughed in disbelief, his face dull with motion and shock. “You're so full of your own lies, you can’t even depict what’s true and what isn’t!”

“It’s difficult to explain when I know you will just go tattling to Pan!”

“Start with the truth then,” Felix demanded. “Pan knows Rylan is a pirate, he knows you were plotting against him to help Rylan leave the island. He’s already suspicious of you leaving with him. We all are. If you don’t start telling me the truth, I will tell Pan everything. I will tell him the Shadow wasn’t lying.”

“Okay- first of all that Shadow hates my guts, number one,” Will commented off-handedly, getting a glare from Felix. “I digress. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t going to leave. I was going to help Rylan-”

“And abandon us?”

“Well-” Will paused. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with him.”

Felix let out a hardy laugh. “And then what?! I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t leave with us?! You would stay on the island with Pan? And what? Receive his wrath? Did you think you would have some kind of picnic? Talk about it over tea?!”

“You asked for my truth!”

“Your truth is nothing but denial.” Felix paused, looking over Will’s face with sudden anguish. “Your mission was to seriously try to… save us?”

“Yes!” Will half-shouted. 

“And not yourself?”

Will tried to form an excuse, but nothing was there. Did he seriously intend on staying? Finally, the words jumbled in his mouth. “The Shadow said if I left with Rylan, I would risk- something about someone's life-”

“Yeah!” Felix exclaimed. “Pan’s!”

“No-” Will shook his head. “It made it seem like leaving the island was to retort to how it was when I first arrived, with the island dying, and you guys would have died-”

Suddenly Felix towered over Will, the shorter brunette stumbling back. “Let me set you straight.” He said. “We were fine without you. If it weren't for you, Devin wouldn’t be dead.”

There it was. There was Will’s reminder and reason to leave. Speaking of reasons to leave, Will looked past Felix and spotted an empty pathway. 

“Where did Rylan go?” Will asked, watching as Felix turned. It only took a second for Felix to react, and when he turned back around, he was met with the dull end of Will’s knife, knocking him out cold. 

🟈🟈🟈

“We back on?” Rylan repeats.

“You are,” Will whispered. “I’m just helping you.”

The duo trampled their way through the think Neverland green, shoving past branches and bushes that were in their way. The air was thick and time was quickly running out for Pan to notice Felix’s absence. Eventually, their legs grew tired. Well- Rylan’s did. Will still had plenty of adrenaline pushing through his veins and his legs grew muscles that were built for long-distance running. The shorter blonde leaned against a tree trunk, out of breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly, hands on his knees until he slid down on his rear onto the dirt. 

“She doesn’t like pirates.” Rylan managed to get out through half-breaths.

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

Rylan, eyes still closed, raised a finger to the sky, signaling to the trees.  

“Oh,” Will quickly understood. Tinkerbell. “Okay… I suppose I’ll get it then.”

After a few moments of brief silence, Rylan stumbled to his feet, his breath still short and face red. “I do the, uh… other thing.

Will nodded, taking a moment to stretch his legs. “Right.”

The blonde watched Will get ready to run again. “Right,” Rylan replied. 

When Will returned to a straight posture, he whipped out a small map. “Remind me why the pirates want to help me?”

As Will handed the folded sheet to Rylan, the blonde shook his head in distaste. “This place isn’t the escape Pan makes it out to be. It’s hell. And he is the devil.”

Will nodded before Rylan had a chance to open the map. “Then… We bring all of them home.”

Rylan’s eyes shot up. “But-”

Will’s voice was stern, full of demand only a commander would possess. A captain, a leader, a chief. “All. of. Them.” 

🟈🟈🟈

Tinkerbell’s hut was only a few yards away. Will could spot it in the glimmer of light left of the day. It taunted him and rose through the trees like a tower. He recalled a Greek myth of Patroclus. Shaking his head, he tried to ignore the resemblance of his situation. 

Vines crawled around the old tree, the bark much older than any tree around. His fingers ached and throbbed when he climbed up them, the bottom hatch inching closer with every moment. 

His stomach sank with a familiar feeling. Maybe when he entered he would find Devin’s rotting body. Cold and gray with long black veins poisoning his temples and eyes, consuming his blood and eating away at his flesh. His body trembled thinking back to how his own body burned as it tore through the bushes to retrieve Devin’s unconscious body. 

Suddenly, the latch opened. An invitation to enter. With strong hands, he lifted himself out from the tree and inside the treehouse. Tinkerbell didn’t help him, stepping back in shock. Did she not expect it to be him?

When he got to his feet, he was met with a spear inching at his nose. His arms lifted, signaling he was unarmed. 

“I’m not here for trouble-” He started.

“Bullshit!” Tinkerbell snapped. “What are you doing here?”

“I need help,” Will answered. His hands dropped, but her spear stayed. “I need to get a shadow.”

Tink’s face faltered for a moment, understanding. It hardens within a second as her spear lowers. “You need a star map.”

“A what?”

Tinkerbell turns to her large wardrobe. As she swings it open, a series of weapons appear, with a long shelf dedicated to small bottles filled with liquid that vary in color. She picks up a small satchel. Pulling out a coconut, Will fails to keep his disbelief at bay. 

“A coconut?” He chuckles.

Fashioned out of two coconut halves, with the top half decorated with holes, the star map contains a candle inside. “The candle, which when light, can trap the shadow.”

“Right.” Will huffs, watching as Tink places the coconut back into the satchel. She doesn’t hand it over immediately, her eyes casting back at Will with pleading guilt. 

“Please,” She says quietly. “Don’t do this.”

Will stood as still as the wall behind him. “I have to.”

Tink walked quickly up to him, clutching the bag tightly in her fist. “No, you don’t.” She says just as quietly. “Stay with him.”

“I am.” Will assured, his hand reaching for the bag. Tink rips it away.

“No, you're not.” She demanded. “If you’re not with him, you’re against him.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Let me guess, also means I’m against you?”

Tink's eyes never leave Will’s. For a moment, she recognizes the glimmer in his eyes. Her voice is trembling, as gentle as the morning tide. “I’ve just seen what happens when Pan trusts people who betray him.”

Will doesn’t take the satchel immediately when Tink holds it out for him. When he does, he doesn’t turn back to look at the fairy. Tink doesn’t shut the trapdoor behind him when he climbs down the tree. 

As soon as Will is out of sight, a bitter wind surrounds Tink and settles behind her. She abruptly tears up and cups her mouth when booted footsteps approach her. Turning to the figure behind her, Pan stands with awaiting eyes. He waits. He waits for her to say something, say anything, to say that Will didn’t take the satchel. 

Tink shakes her head at him, and Pan’s face crumbles in great disappointment and grief. When Tink tries to reach out a hand to comfort him, Pan smacks it away. The gust of cold wind returns and Pan is gone, just as fast as he arrived. Not a word was said to the fairy, but Pan returned to camp with tears threatening his eyes. 

🟈🟈🟈

Will, jogging down the path he had made for himself, had his memory guide him to the dark hollow. His feet snap branches and his hands grip the knife that cuts through brush. When his foot finally made contact with dirt, a branch snapped behind him. Quickly, as instinct, he drew his knife and crouched down, body quiet and eyes looking around wildly. 

Someone was following him. 

Another branch broke behind him. He turned around, knife out to the mystery stalker. It wasn't a mystery who it was. Then came a brush of leaves to his right, then a footstep to his left. Will’s blue eyes widen. The boys. 

An arrow zipped past him and hit a trunk an inch from his face, and when Will turned to flee, Jared came out from the bush and tackled him to the ground. They all erupted from the green one by one, following a pattern. Will’s fist swung and rammed into Jared's cheek. As the shorter boy’s grip loosened, Will kicked him off and scrambled to his feet. Then came another arrow, expertly pinching his blouse and pining the fabric to the tree behind him. 

Will’s eyes launched to the arrow beside his cheek. 

 “Every lost boy gets their boy and arrow. It’s a symbol of loyalty to Pan and maturing to the next level. Only a few boys have their own.” 

The thin blue string wrapped tightly around the sting nock was no stranger to Will. He knew the archer within a second. The thick runes carved into the belly side of the body were quickly covered as his fingers wrapped around it and ripped it out of the tree, bark flying to the floor. 

“Come on, Will. Don’t do this!” A voice calls from above him

Then came Jah’sir. His frame was larger than Will’s and made quick work of pining Will to the forest floor. Sandesh leaped from the bush with Jared following as the tree pinned Will to the floor. It took all of them to fight back Will’s persistent strength and shouting. 

He knocked his head against the grass and repeated the mantra in his head. Over and over again it came, and over and over again it was the same. Will’s foot found Jahsir and quickly wrapped around it. Over and over again he saw Devin’s face drain of color within seconds. With all of his weight, he pushed Jah’sir into Sandesh, the lightest. Like dominoes, they fell. Will’s already bruised fist knocked Jared once again. Over and over again he heard Pan’s sickening voice. Jared was harder to beat. He punched Will a good few times until Will kneed him in the abdomen with all his remaining strength. 

The brunette pulled himself away from the scramble and stumbled to his feet. When he turned to run, his body made fierce contact with a hard chest and knocked himself right back into the dirt. 

He looked up in surprise as his eyes met Pan’s. 

🟈🟈🟈

Will’s head slammed against the tree trunk, vines slithering around his body and pining him tightly against the log. “I should've never trusted you.” He shouted at Pan as a thicker vine wrapped around Will’s throat. “You’re selfish, evil, and manipulative.” His breath was caught on his last word. “I was so stupid!” He coughed.

“You trusted me?!” Pan raged, kicking the satchel that previously fell from Will’s body to the side. “You went behind my back!”

“I was trying to let Rylan go home!” Will rasped. 

Pan’s boots stomped toward him, his hand raising quickly. “I will not be tricked by you, any longer.”

Suddenly, all air left Will’s throat. He tried to stay calm, but his mouth ran dry, his chest ached against his skin, and his heart and lungs against his ribs. “You’re… too arrogant,” He tried to say, but it only came out in soft rasps and gasps of air that wasn’t there. “I doubt… you even tr-trusted… me… in the first place.”

Then, Pan let go of his air, his fingers digging into Will’s chin, fingernails into the skin. “Why should I?” He spat, inches on the boy’s face. “You have never failed to prove to me over and over that you are untrustworthy!” His nails dug crescents into Will’s cheek, even drawing blood as it pricked Will’s cheeks. “You have brought my boys to death’s door, you have disobeyed my orders, you have lied to me, and made me admire you for it, TOO MANY TIMES.” Pan’s grip tightened, and Will felt his whole body losing feeling, the vines cutting on circulation. Pan’s voice was broken and quieted, a sad smile threatening his lips. “I knew I should have killed you, but The Shadow didn’t let me. He told me you were special. That you were to save me. All you have done is disappoint me.” A pause silenced him when all Will did was when and wince in pain with every second. It was pathetic and Pan hated he could feel it too. His hands ripped away, pushing Will’s cheek into the bark. “You made your choice.”

Will took all the air he could. “THE SHADOW-”

“The Shadow warned me this would happen!” Pan interrupted, still, inches form his face. All the boys watched in slight horror as Pan’s wrath was displayed for them all to see. His voice hissed and felt like knives driving into Will’s chest. “This is your fault, not mine. Don’t take your own mistakes out on him. You are being just as foolish as the day I met you.” 

Will winced, his eyes shutting as the vines tightened. “It’s… not foolish…” He gasped. “...to trust people!”

Then, all vines cascaded away and all the boys watched as Will collapsed into the grass, seemingly unconscious. This proved incorrect. Even after Pan’s wrath, Will still found the strength to push himself onto his elbows. “And so, the lion trusted the lamb.” Pan sneered.

Will’s eyes met Pan’s with tears streaming down. Pan tried to tell himself it was from the lack of oxygen. Will’s voice matched Pan’s venom. “What a stupid lion.” He breathed.

Pan shook his head. “What a sick, masochistic lamb.” Will’s head dropped onto the dirt, heavy breath still leaving his lips. “Why do you defend him?” Pan asked, half-curious. “He’s a pirate!”

Will anchored himself onto his knees, whipping his hair back. “He’s a child! We all are!” His voice broke with emotion. “And for you, or anyone to expect us to be perfect is the only foolish thing I’ve seen on this island.” It screeched in anger and frustration. “Neverland is supposed to be an island where boys are free of rules! Of danger! Of death!”

“And you have done nothing but ensure that!” Pan snapped back. “You’re not taking my boys away!”

“They don’t want to leave anyway! They are all loyal to you!”

Pan shook his head once again. “If only all of them were.”

A rustling arrived beside them, and quick enough, Rylan entered the scene, Kayleigh falling quickly behind. Will had never been so happy to see them. 

“Rylan!” Will exclaimed. 

However, Pan was quicker than all of them, reaching out a hand for the satchel. It all happened within a few seconds, and even Will was unsure how he could’ve done it. But he did. Will lept with all his remaining strength and tackled Pan to the ground, watching the satchel fall to the grass, the coconut rolling out of the leather. 

Kayleigh took her sword and swung the edge around the satchel sleeve, scooping up the pouch and the coconut. Rylan caught it in the air. Will continued to launch himself at Pan, slowing him down as much as possible. His legs wrapped around the blonde's waist as Pan’s hands wrapped around Will’s forearms in a force to rip him off. His grip on the smaller was fierce un wielding, surely leaving bruises. 

Pan spun them around, digging Will's back into the ground, and tried to tear himself off of the brunette. Without warning or even intention, Will’s hands gripped Pan’s collar and teleported them away.

Chapter Text

“What does it matter?” Achilles cuts her off, snarling. "He is dead. Can your power bring him back?”

“No," she says. "Nothing can.”

He stands. “Do you think I cannot see your rejoicing? I know how you hated him. You have always hated him! If you had not gone to Zeus, he would be alive!”

“He is a mortal,” she says. “And mortals die.”

“I am a mortal!” he screams. “What good is godhead, if it cannot do this? What good are you?”

🟈🟈🟈

Pan’s already sand-colored hair was now knotted with grains of it. Their landing was less than ideal, Will directly above him. The sudden change of scenery snapped Will out of his trance and tore away from Pan, falling straight back into the sand. Pan quickly understood what had happened. Will had teleported them. Before he could muster up a question, or even an insult, Will was back at barking at him.

“You pathetic little-! You teleported us away!” Will stumbled to his feet, his toes tangling with the sand and stinking to his legs. A scream erupted from his throat, and Pan wondered how much longer he could shout until draining his voice. That amazing voice of his. The voice he loved to spit fire at him. “She’s dead, isn’t she?! Anyone who dares leave the island is killed by you! Anyone who isn’t fueled by your pathetic delusion is murdered and done away with.”

Pan brushed the sand the best he could away until his hands collided with his shoulders. Pan smacked Will’s hands away. “You don’t know anything!” Pan shouted back. “Your motivations are folktales and biased opinions!”

“Bias?!” Will exclaimed, quickly letting out a hardy laugh of pure disbelief. “You’ve almost killed me multiple times because I pissed you off!”

“Because you almost died!” Pan sneered back. “Because they could have died! I thought I made you see that after Devin’s death but-” There's a silence. Suddenly the energy changes, the wind shifts direction, and Pan’s eyes grow softer. “But clearly…” Pan began again. “Your priorities lie somewhere else.”

Will didn’t notice the change. Manipulation, all of it was. “My priorities lie with the boys! They need to go home!”

Pan stopped forward. “And where exactly is that, Will? A boy's home?! An orphanage? In a land where they are outcasted, abused, and unwanted?!”

Will shook his head, eyes wide with realization. “So, you kidnapped these boys because you thought you could give them a better home?”

Pan’s voice boomed with exasperation. “YES!”

Will couldn’t believe it, a smile erupted on his face in pure, unkempt disbelief. Pan was smarter than this. How did he not see it the way Will did?! Will matched his tone. “That is still fucked up!”

Pan let out a hard groan, eyes dragged back with his chin to the sky. How could they be on such opposite sides? After so many exhilarating hours of training? Hours spent bonding and understanding each other? Pan thought they were on the same page. How stupid of him. When his eyes returned to his Will, they were full of frustration and impatience. “Let me ask you this- have you asked them if they wanted to leave?” Will didn’t answer. “Ask them. Ask them if they want to abandon the only real home they’ve had for years for a world that will never understand them?”

Will chuckled. “Oh, like you understand them?! What’s your reason, huh? Why are you here?!”

“That real world-” Pan began. "The one you claim is so perfect- “He trailed on, naming one boy after another, “It killed Felix’s family, sold Jah’sir away from his family, outcasted Sandesh’s mother for having a bastard son, so much so that she killed herself!” It shut Will into unnamed silence. “That real world couldn’t arrest Jared’s father for beating his wife because they didn’t have enough evidence. The real-world blamed Blake! Casting rumors that it was his fault that an older man-” Pan couldn’t finish, words tumbling over his lips in a feral scream. “THE REAL WORLD DOESN’T CARE.” The cry echoed through the trees and pushed Will a step back. It sounded so familiar. Like he had said it before. Over and over again. Damn this heart, Will thought. Damn him. “The real world fueled your addiction and let your sisters fall into the foster system.” Will couldn’t help but see those frustrated eyes brim with tears. Blink, Will thought. Blink them away. Don’t let me see you cry. Don’t cry. I’ll hate myself if you cry. “Why do you want to go back?!” 

Will didn’t reply right away, his eyes casting down over the waves crashing into the shore and then out into the horizon, where the sky touched the water. Where the sun hid behind, where the true mysteries lie. He thought of how long he could swim until all he saw around him was water. It was beautiful.

“I don’t.” He breathed. 

Pan shut his eyes and let out a thick sigh. “Then why are you doing this?” He asked, his voice still brimmed with exhaustion. 

It didn’t take him long to answer this time. “Because I feel like shit because of it,” Will confessed.

This time, Pan was cast into silence. As he stepped forward, Will would step back. An endless dance. Who would falter? Who would trust the other? Could feel this pull as well? Could Will feel Pan’s outreaching hand, stretching broken muscle for him to hold? Pan dropped the empty hand and refused to step forward any longer. “If I never gave you my heart, would you have left?” He wouldn’t step forward. If Pan was going to try, so did Will. “If Devin never died? When?!”

“I don’t know!” Will confessed, looking away at the ocean. 

Pan let himself anchor forward. “Why can’t you just be happy here like the rest of us?!” He couldn’t help it. 

Will’s head rolled, shaking back and forth. Denying it. Denying everything. Denying the energy, the pull, the anchor that pulled him to the island, to Pan. “And do what?!”

“Rule with me!” Pan’s arms outstretched on either side, like he was presenting himself with the island. One step forward. “Stay with me!” Will stepped back. “Show these boys happiness like you have before!” One step forward. “Show them what it’s like to be a boy and not a man!” Will stepped back. “Show me who you are, and I will show you who I am!” Pan didn’t move. Neither did Will. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, those teary ocean eyes found Pan’s. “What if I don’t know who I am?” His voice shook and trembled. “Who am I without my family?”

One step forward. Will didn’t step back.

An outstretched hand. “Let me show you,” Pan said, softly.

“I would rather you just kill me.”

Pan smiled. “I told I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“If I didn’t give you my heart…” Will started, standing his ground when Pan stepped forward once more. “...would you kill me then?”

One more step forward. No step back. Will waited for Pan to pounce on him. For that hand to dive into his chest and take his heart for himself. The hand never lifted. His eyes never looked away. Damn, those eyes. He watched when suddenly, they shifted. Will felt it too. His chest ached and tightened. Will’s mind traveled back to Rylan and Kayleigh.

“The pirates have a shadow.” Pan breathed. They shared a look. “Pick your side.” 

No step forward. No step back. 

🟈🟈🟈

When the wind settled around them, they two match steps to stride into camp. Will had to jog to keep up with Pan, who stormed back into camp. He held his breath, waiting for his commanding voice to start shouting at Rylan and Kayleigh. He silently prayed that they made a run for it. Alas, they were met with silence. 

Will’s eyebrows furrowed when he caught up to Pan, who stood violently still, eyes slowly glazing over the camp. Will followed that intense gaze across the treehouses, and listened carefully for a voice, any voice. A snap of a tree branch, a laugh. All the two heard was a pair of birds fluttering down to the center, pecking at spare crumbs of their lunch. 

He didn’t have to ask where the boys were. He watched Pan’s gaze quickly dark as his frustration consumed him. Will felt the rage suddenly consume him the same. His chest flooded with exhilaration, his head throbbed, jaw clenching, and fists balling up.

“They have our boys,” Pan said through gritted teeth. As the shorter boy turned, his wild eyes matched Will’s. Will could almost forget himself and blame himself for the look Pan was giving him. Yes, he had royally fucked up and Pan had every right under the sun to be furious with Will, but something was lingering under those eyes. When did Pan start referring to the boys as theirs? Something they shared? 

Rage clouded Will’s judgment as his fist, balled up with nails piercing skin, flew into a tree, knuckles digging deep into the bark. His fury-filled scream echoed through the trees and cast a warning sign for the pirates about what was soon to come. 

They teleported to the deck soon after that. Pirates shouted and screamed around them, shouts for the Captain. Will was quick to nock his bow and aim it directly at Rylan’s head. 

“Release them,” Will commanded, his back parallel to Pan’s. 

All the boys, Jah’sir, Jared, Sandesh, Blake, and Felix were tied and bound around the main mast. They all shouted for Pan to save them, but all Pan could see was Kayleigh sneaking up behind Will with a knife. Before he could do anything, Will was quickly taken hostage.

Her blade made contact with Will’s neck and a hiss echoed around them, all movement ceased, and voices quieted.

“Lower your weapon.” She demanded. 

“Come on, Darling.” Will turned on the charm as he lowered his bow inch by inch. “Don’t do this.” 

“You slithery fuck.” Kayleigh spat in his ear. “You have some nerve coming back here.”

Will quickly lowered his bow, chin tilting over to Kayleigh. “I like a girl who can talk dirty.” Her blade pressed deeper, drawing blood. Will hissed out and tossed his bow aside. Her blade never ceased the pressure. “Alright! Chill!” His hands quickly flew up, seemingly unarmed. 

“Pan.” A voice commanded, casting the attention of every single soul on the ship. There he stood, Captain Hook, all of his glory on the quarter deck. His eyes met Pan’s sharper ones. “You know, I was surprised to know that the boy with the heart of the truest believer was here, on the island. How lucky was I to quickly find out after the fact that he despises the boy king of it all! I have to admit. It seemed all a little too easy when I sent my best boy to convince him to come back. So please, for the sake of your new pet: cease this pathetic mission you call an attack.”

“You first,” Pan smirked. 

Before anyone saw it coming, Pan materialized behind Rylan. His hand dove into the blonde's chest and quickly ripped out his ruby-red heart. Screams ensued quickly after that as Rylan clutched his chest and collapsed to his knees, heaving in breaths.

“Release them,” Pan demanded. “Or I will crush his heart.” 

Will shouted at him to literally pick any other pirate, but in the end, Pan did warn him. He practically promised him. If there's one thing Will learned about Pan, it’s that he always keeps his promises. 

Pan, with a voice as smooth as butter, spoke with such relaxation. As if this was too easy for him. “Let’s see how much you care about getting home, hmm?” And  Jesus fucking Christ  did it make Will’s stomach sink and his face hot.

Slowly, Hook stepped down the stairs, one by one. “You don’t scare me, boy.”

Kayleigh’s knife never ceased. “Pan,” Will called out, hoping he would hear him this time. 

Pan’s smirk deepened. “Yes?”

Will smiled lightly, scrunching his eyes shut, waiting for Kayleigh to swipe. “Kill him.”

Like a blink of an eye, like it was a reflex, Pan’s grip on Rylan’s heart tightened. Rylan couldn’t deny the scream that ripped out of him. It hollowed the air around the ship. It was so loud that Will couldn’t hear Hook order Kayleigh to let him go. Stumbling forward toward Pan, his grip ceased, and Rylan could breathe. For now. Will watched in shock as the poor boy heaved for air, clutching his stomach with such wild ferocity it almost made him sick to watch it. 

“The boys,” Pan ordered, watching as Hook’s chin lifted slightly to the right. 

Just as quickly, pirates scrambled toward the main mast. Kayleigh quickly strided toward Rylan who was curled on the ground whimpering pathetic pleas for mercy. When the rope loosened around the boys and they were free, they snarled at the pirates. Making their way back to Pan like pets to their owner. 

Pan’s eyes were tightly locked on Hooks when Will’s landed on him. Never once did they glance back at Will to make sure he was alright. Every time someone threatened Pan’s wrath, Will thought, it would show him how large his fury could be. But never did it fail to frighten him, just how cruel this boy could actually be. Ruthless and without mercy. 

Will’s feet carefully stepped toward Pan, who seemed almost in a trance-like state. “We’re okay.” He said softly to him. “You can let him go.”

Pan didn’t move. 

“You gonna kill a kid, Peter?” Hook asked him, his voice masked with gritted teeth. 

Pan didn’t move. 

Felix approached just as quietly. “Pan, enough.” 

Pan didn’t move. 

“Enough!” Felix said louder, when suddenly Pan’s grip tightened, and Rylan was back to screaming. “Pan, stop!”

“Pan!” Will shouted at him. “Let him go!”

Pan couldn’t hear them. All he could hear was Devin screaming Peter’s name. Each time Rylan’s heart beat, Pan’s mind flashed back to Devin’s cold hands turning numb and falling out of grasp. He saw his bright blue eyes shimmering gray and out of focus. Truth is, Pan hasn’t killed somebody in years, and the thrill of the control he held. The screams Rylan cried were a mere fraction of the pain he still held deep within him. 

Pan’s eyes never left Hook. “A boy…” Rylan’s pleas grew louder as he clutched his chest. “For a boy…”

Hook’s eyes, now wide with fear, stepped closer and drew his sword. “Your fight is with me! Not with some boy!”

Pan’s gaze was cold, dull, and ceased of emotion when Will approached him. His hands were outstretched like he was preying on an oblivious animal, ready to pounce. “Pan, listen to me. You don’t want to do this.” Carefully, his hands found Pan’s wrist and his grip tightened. Rylan screamed once more, but Will whispered gently to Pan, “No, no, no… you don’t want to do this. Come on.”

“Please!” Kayleigh pleaded, her cheeks stained with tears as she held the crying boy.

Will’s voice, gentle like a siren song’s, was drawing Pan out of his trance. All the boys watched in fear and admiration. They had never seen Pan kill a boy if at all, it’s been years. And for Will to approach such a furious beast with such soft caress… “Just give me the heart…” Will pleaded softly, watching Pan’s eyes falter down slightly. “Just give it to me… Please…” Suddenly, Felix saw how familiar the scene looked. How Pan’s face softened. It was a stranger all the same. 

Gently, Pan’s grip loosened, and so did his gaze. Like he was slowly coming out of his rage. The heart fell softly into Will’s hands, but the pirates still were all frozen in fear. Rylan’s crying turned to whimpers as Will handed the heart to Felix, who crossed the deck to give it back to Rylan. A sigh hushed over everyone on the deck, and Will’s eyes never left Pan’s.

“Let’s go.” Will pleaded quietly, reaching out to grab Pan’s wrist again. 

Carefully, they came together like some small family, Pan silently counting all their heads. They are here. They are okay. Then he looked back at Hook.

The captain pointed his sword at Pan. “I owe you a death.” 

Will’s eyes never left Pan so quickly, and on instinct, he snarled wildly at Hook. As if he was some wild animal. Pan reached for his forearm and pulled him back toward the boys. 

“Will, please,” Blake called. “Let’s go.”

They disappeared into the wind and appeared back on the beaches of Neverland. All together. As a family. 

END OF ACT 1

Chapter Text

"Perhaps Apollo let him fall,

perhaps he kissed Icarus' wings with sun-soaked lips.

and burnt him into a legend.

so that he may hold him forever

in a kinder world."

- D.E.

All air was shut out of Will’s room. All windows were closed. All doors shut. It was as if oxygen itself was suffocating Will. His stomach curled and spun in his abdomen as he tried to process what the actual fuck just happened. Pan wasn’t one for silence, and yet, it was all that held in his room. 

If he could melt away into this stool, he would.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Quiet.” Pan snapped, arms crossed and leaning across from him. 

His eyes stared daggers into Will. Like if he squinted just a little longer, he could find what he was hiding. Truth was, Will had nothing to hide. He could be sitting naked and Pan would still believe he was hiding something. 

Will’s eyes refused to meet Pan’s. “I didn’t know-”

“When will you?” Pan said. 

Will shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He memorized the pattern of the floorboard as they reverted into silence quickly broken by Pan’s boots creaking into hardwood. Will’s chin raised and froze, finally meeting Pan’s eyes as he approached the boy. 

Maybe if he met his eyes, Pan would look away. Please, Will silently begged. Don’t look at me like that. His nails dug into the wood and shot a wave of pain up his arm. He hated it when people scolded him like this. He wanted Pan to Yell, to shout, to scream, like he usually did. Not this. This suffocating silence brought back memories of Will’s nasty stepfather and his hard fist and fingers digging into Will’s chin. 

“I don’t deserve this,” Will whispered. Did he mean it? “I can’t do it.”

“Damn right, you can’t,” Pan assured, his voice hard and laced with dreamshade-level venom. “I told Felix- I- Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?!”

Will’s stomach sank but his shoulders didn’t. They tensed. He felt his stepfather’s grip on his shirt and similar vicious tongue spitting words of worthless, selfish, and hatred. I hate you, he’d say. He wanted Pan to say it. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”

“Shut up.” It wasn’t that, but it was close enough for Will to flinch back a centimeter. Pan’s gaze flickered, and damn it all to hell, Pan saw it. Of course, he did. Pan saw everything. Gone was his hatred and rage. It all washed away like a tidal wave and was replaced with softens the likeness of a flower petal. “What should I do?”

Will doesn’t say anything and looks away from him. 

“I’ll tell you what…” Pan steps back suddenly, his hands waving in the air with carelessness. “I’ll give you one chance. Tell me what we should do.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Was he serious? Was he giving him  another  chance? “I could go talk to the boys about-”

Pan’s eyes rolled. “Not about them, Will. Us. You're not getting out of trouble with them.” Will froze, eyes napping onto Pan. “What should we do about us? We need to work better.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows, his expression shifting into uncomfortable suspicion. “I guess… be honest with each other?

Pan dragged a chair out from Will’s desk and plopped it across Will and draped himself over it. “What’s stopped you from doing that in the first place?”

Will didn’t miss a beat. Scoffing, he said- “Well, I hated you.”

Pan was quick to snap back. “Feeling was entirely mutual.” Silence draped over them like Pan’s forearms did the chair. Those arms and their center stage influence Will’s desires. “And now?” Pan said, almost a whisper. 

Will closed himself off, crossing his arms and legs. “I’m surprised we don’t still.”

Pan, very slowly, walked around the chair, his fingers grazing the wood. “What else?”

Will watched them like he would a spider on his wall. “I was…” They tucked around the edge. “...probably a little scared of you.” Pan’s eyes never left the chair as he carefully let himself sit. “Of what you would do. Scared you wouldn’t understand.”

Will paused, watching Pan lift his fingers up and rub the middle and pointer with his thumb, dust floating into the air and landing on the hardwood floor where the sun hit the blinds.

“I have trouble trusting people,” Will confessed without reason. Maybe it was the way Pan’s eyes snapped to him expectantly. 

“Your mother is a drug addict and your stepfather is a narcissistic.” He said. “Of course you do.” Suddenly, Will waited for that ache in his stomach, but it never came. Pan’s eyes flickered down to the neckline of Will’s blouse, where cotton met skin and dragged down and down and down and landed on the palace where his heart would be. “If I… try to understand you…” His eyes fluttered up to Will’s. “Will you trust me?”

“If I trust you with my life… will you tell me about yours?”

Pan nods. Will mirrors him.

🟈🟈🟈

Time flew by quickly after that. 8 days went by, and Will was met with silence from both Blake and Felix. Felix didn’t have a problem with ignoring him. It’s not like Will went out of his way to talk to the guy anyway. But Blake crushed him. Sandesh understood more than most, and always tried to get Blake on Will’s side. But this isn’t the first time Will has pulled this. It didn’t matter how many times WIll tried to remind Blake that he wasn’t trying to leave them, Blake ignored him. And now? They were both in charge of dinner. Not by any account of Will’s order: he had lost that power as soon as he stepped foot on the pirate ship. 

Blake stood crocheting near the fire being gently fed by Will. Blake gently rotated a small leg of lamb. The fire fuel had shrunk into tiny orange pads around a black log of wood. 

Rising from the dirt, Will brushed off his hands. “I’m gonna grab some more firewood.”

Blake said nothing. Will walked to the small pile he had cut ages ago that was taking weeks to diminish. He grabbed a fourth of a log and held it up with one hand, signaling to Blake to back up. He planned to gently press the wood into the flame, but the log slipped from his fingers and slammed into the firepit. The fire blew away as ash erupted straight into Blake’s eyes and face.

“Fuck-” Will scrambled for Blake, who smacked his hand away and went for the small canister of water they had boiled a day or so ago. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up!” Blake shouted, pouring the water onto his face, the hot ash stinging his face. “You always do this!”

“I told you to back up!” Will shouted back, returning to the fire pit in an effort to find a single glare of orange. “It’s fine we can just relight it.”

“No! We can’t just relight it, Will!” Blake whipped his now damp hair up. “Rain is coming and we need-”

“Blake, it’s fine.” Will assured, grabbing a small pouch by the fireplace. He opened it and found zero matches. Guess they would have to use friction.

“No!” Blake heaved. “We need dry wood!” He stomped over to the fireplace. “It’s going to rain, and we need heat and if we can’t have heat-”

“I’m sure Pan can do something.” Will sighed, tossing the pouch aside.

Blake let out a snarl of frustration. “It’s always him! It’s always going to be him! Pan will save us. Pan will help. Pan will protect us. Pan will do this, Should we ask Pan? Is Pan mad? How is Pan?”

“Why are you so mad?” Will laughed nervously. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re dependent on each other!”

Will let out a laugh. “Ha! Dependent?! As if you guys don’t follow him around like lost dogs!”

“You don’t like him anyways.” Blake shook his head. “I liked you better when you hated him.”

Will shook off Blake's harsh words and grabbed two sticks. “What are you doing?” Blake asked.

“Making a fire, idiot.” Will spat. 

“With two sticks?”

“If I knew you’d be this talkative I would have put out a fire ages ago,” Will said, being quickly met with silence. His head turned back, awaiting a frozen Blake, but all he saw was the black-haired boy walking away.

“Where are you going?!” Will shouted. “Pan put us in charge of this!”

“You can tattle to him all you want when you guys aren’t busy sucking each other off!”

“Fuck you!” Will snapped quickly back, heat rushing to his face. Speaking of the devil himself, he and his group were pouring back into camp, back from training. 

It seemed Blake didn’t care as he flipped Will the bird from behind. “Fuck you!” He screamed back.

“At least you guys are talking,” Sandesh said smiling, walking up to Will quickly. 

“What the hell happened?” Jared asked.

Will rolled his eyes and strode back over to the firepit. “Hard to know with him.”

“Got that right,” Sandesh scoffed, plucking the undercooked piece of meat from the fire. “Shit’s covered in ash- where’s the fire?”

“We lost it. I lost it.” Will watched as Jah’sir kneeled for the matches in the pouch. “We're out of matches.”

Will has yet to even acknowledge Pan, who stood beyond Jared and Jah’sir, eyeing the fire. 

“Let me light it.” Pan voiced, walking to the fire.

“No-” Will said, putting a hand on his chest. “I got it.”

Pan perked up an amused brow. “With what?”

Lightning strikes and rumbles the earth below them. “Just give me a minute-”

“I have more matches in my-”

“I said I got it.” Will snapped suddenly. Boys went silenced around them, all watching Pan digest the disrespect. Will dropped his head to his chest for a moment and then looked back to Pan, with a softer expression. “I’m sorry. Blake just commented and I-”

“What did he say?” Pan asked, expression softening. 

Will looked at Sandesh, who curiously looked over and the expected gossip. “Nothing.” 

Pan nodded, understanding. “You got 5 minutes. If I don’t see a fire, I’m grabbing matches.”

“Thanks,” Will whispered, watching the boys disperse into their routines. As he watched Pan walk off, his wrist instinctively snatched the boy’s wrist. “Pan...”

Pan quickly turned, alert as ever. “What’s up?”

Will looked around nervously. “He said I was dependent on you.”

Pan’s lips parted, quickly noting it. “I see. Well- we are sharing a heart.”

“Just-” Will gazed down at his fingers, still loosely gripped around the smaller wrist. There was more to say, but for once he did not say it. There would be other times for speaking, tonight and tomorrow and all the days after that. He brushed them away, letting them fall a considerable distance. “Just let me do this thing my way before you go helping me.”

Pan’s amused eyebrow was back up. “You asking me to trust you again?”

Will matched his smile. “Yeah.”

“It’s gonna take some succeeding on your part.”

“I won’t prove you wrong.” Will assured. “Not this time.”

There was a long moment where they just looked at each other. It was as if the world around them didn’t exist and all they had was each other.  

“I trust you,” Pan said after a few beats.

Will smiled, nodded, and jogged back to the firepit. 

🟈🟈🟈

It was quiet without Blake. Sandesh tried to speak with him when he came back, but he couldn’t catch him storming back up into his chambers. So now, they all sat around, chatting among themselves in quiet banter. Will sat beside Pan, who was busy writing something inside his journal, occasionally looking up at the boys as if he was taking notes on them. Will tried to glance over, but Pan shoved him away with a playful glare.

Directly opposite Pan, sat Felix, plateless and talking to nobody. Will took a moment to acknowledge his own untouched plate, meat, and a series of vegetables laid still warm, and uneaten. 

“Be right back,” Will whispered into Pan’s shoulder, rising from his seat..

Pan nodded, watching him stride carefully around the blazing fire until he stood in front of Felix. His sharp blue eyes snapped up, weariness held with suspicion. The plate Will had on his lap now sat on the log next to Felix. A silent offering. 

The blonde's eyes shifted down and toward the plate. He didn’t need to take it, just to know it was there. Will didn’t wait around for him, walking back toward Pan who watched the interaction from afar.

His eyebrows furrowed as he mouthed, ‘Alright?’

Will nodded with a soft smile and took his place beside Pan. His chestnut air glowed blonde with the bright flamelight illuminating his entire face. His shadows were gone and his smile, while wavering, was there. The quiet typically bothered him, especially when it belonged to Pan. but right now? He didn’t mind it. If he could freeze a single moment and capture Pan’s face, it would probably be this one.

“You should play something.” Will requested. 

Pan thought for a moment and then reached behind him for his flute. “What’s that song you were singing?”

“What song?” Will pretended to ask cluelessly.

“The one written in your journal.”

Pan sat froze, looking at Will expectantly. Will pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I hate you.” He said with a smile. Pan let out a chuckle as he watched Will also reach behind him for the journal. “I haven't put a melody to it-”

“Just give me what you got,” Pan spoke so casually, that it almost sounded like he had completely forgotten Will had betrayed him a week ago. 

Will stared at the lyrics smudged and some erased. He took a shaking breath and shut his mouth. “I don’t know-” he said, looking away.

“We all heard you sing before.” Pan rolled his eyes, nudging him with his shoulder. “Do you seriously think that low of me? That I would ask you to embarrass yourself in front of the boys?”

“Yes,” Will said with a smile. “100%, Without a doubt.”

Pan chuckled again. “Come on,” he said, softly. 

Will stared back down at his page. 

“One bright morning changes all things

Soft and easy as your breathing, you wake.”

Will looked up to see all eyes on him. He turned to Pan, who sat still smiling at him. Maybe he didn’t like being so naked. Another breath passed when he watched the flute touch Pan’s rosy lips. He never took his eyes off him, and even when he would’ve, they started at the ground between them. Softly, the flute roamed between the lyrics like an ethereal guardian angel, guiding Will’s quiet voice to grow louder.

“Your eyes open at first, a thousand miles away

But turning shoot a silver bullet at point-blank range

And I can scarcely believe what I'm believing in

Could this be how every day begins?”

Will’s eyes shut gently as he tried to recall the rest of the song. A smile grew on his face and it wasn’t his little sister’s he pictured around him. It wasn’t the blaring tv screen or the shouting upstairs. It was the leaves that fell when he walked, the branches that crunched below him, the soft caw of the birds, and the snap of arrows hitting straw targets. It was the laughter of his friends he made, the sun hiding behind his curtains, and the green in Pan’s wild eyes.

“The sky set to burst

The gold and the rust

The color erupts

You filling my cup

The sun coming up”

His eyes cast open and finally met the grins around him. The kind of smiles you receive from your chosen family. He smiled back. They knew the song wasn’t done and Will wondered why he hadn’t shared this song with them earlier.

“Like I lived my whole life,”

He looked beside himself at Pan. His eyes were sharp and focused on him. Like he was a painting to be memorized, a moment in time to be frozen and remembered by taste, sound, or smell. He wouldn’t mind being remembered by him, and ever so slightly, Pan smiled through his flute.  God , his smile could rip him apart.

“Before the first light.”

Chapter Text

"I am one of God’s mistakes

I’m crying, a tragic waste of skin.

You’re well aware of how it hurts.

And yet you still won’t let me in. "

-D.E.

Sweat sticks to Will’s skin like elastic and weighs his shirt down on his chest. He’s tried, and even after he discarded the garment, he is still weighted down by dehydration. His skin glistens and glows in the Neverland air. He catches a glimpse of it in the pond he uses to cool off. Training with Pan has never been so hard. Maybe he was doing this on purpose. That egotistical idiot probably just wanted to remind Will that he was stronger. He felt so pathetically human in comparison to this god-like motherfu-

“You done trying to drown yourself?” Pan calls from a few feet away from the pond.

Will scoops up the water in his palms and sinks it into his face. The coolness made him groan silently in his chest. Usually, the rain should wash away humidity. Guess it worked differently on Neverland. Everything did.

Will whipped his dark hair away from his eyes and glared at Pan. “Give me another minute, maybe I’ll find an alligator in here.”

Pan doesn’t find it that funny. He strides toward Will in wide steps. Will lets himself lay on the damp mud below his feet. His view of the trees above is quickly covered by Pan’s face.

“Stand up.” Pan orders. Will closes his eyes and heaves another few breaths. “Not going to ask you again.”

“You win!!” Will shouts pathetically, scrunching his eyes tightly. 

“What was that?” Pan said. Will could hear the grin through his teeth.

“I can hear you smiling.”

“No, you can’t,” Pan said, smiling.

“Yes,” Will says, opening his eyes. “I can.”

Pan smiles shamelessly down at him. “Say it again.”

Will groans and spins on his stomach. “Yer when,” he says into the ground.

“Hmmm..?” Pan crouches down, the smile hurting his cheeks. 

Will props himself on his elbows and lifts his face to meet Pan’s. “You w-”

“Your face is disgusting.” Pan interrupts, pressing a finger to his forehead and smearing the mud. “Absolutely covered-”

Will’s hands quickly swipe the back of Pan’s boot as he pulls it forward with all of his strength. Pan hits the ground on his ass and hands with a considerably loud, “Will!” and then it’s Will’s turn to smile, as he results to wrestling Pan despite how he tries to kick him away. 

“Stop!” Pan laughs, one foot resting on Will’s shoulder. “You said I won!”

Will props himself on one knee, a hand lingering beside Pan’s thigh. The other hand finds Pan’s boot that rests frozen and ready to kick him away. His eyes never left Pan’s and his smirk was merciless. Pan didn’t move and neither did Will. Both were painfully aware of the compromising position any boy could find them in. 

As Will, ever so slightly, shifted his weight on both his knees, Pan’s boot fell to Will’s bare chest. Those green eyes followed a shameless blush rising under them.

“Your scars are healing fast…” Pan’s voice was quiet and trembled. Will's eyes followed down to his abdomen.

The mermaid scratch. Followed by a series of smaller cat-scratch-like scars. Dreamshade. Will’s eyes shifted up and caught Pan’s, wide and almost scared. “I had a good healer.”

This results in Pan freezing. Like- properly freezing. All wind around them ceases and all Will could focus on was Pan’s short breathing. His eyes move manically around Will’s body, searching for something. Will didn’t know what.

“You should see yourself.” Pan gasped, settling on a deep breath. “You look a mess.”

Says you , Will thought to himself. “I’m good with what I see right now.” He decided on. As if Pan couldn’t manifest every thought Will had, his eyes widened more and left Will entirely. Pan mumbles something under his breath, just quiet enough for Will not to entirely hear it. He did hear how it sounded. They are locked on the ground. “What?” Will asks, inching closer, one hand gently grabbing Pan’s boot. 

Pan’s head snaps toward Will, panic flooding his face. “Shut up.”

Will smiles wildly as Pan scrambles back, the boot being ripped away from him. “No seriously- What?!” Will couldn’t shake the laugh that left him.

Pan heaves, shifting to a stern stand. “Cut that out.” He spat, his eyes fierce and face hot.

Will, still on his knees, cocks his face to the right with a teasing grin. “Is that an order?”

Pan turns completely around and goes to gather his weapons. “Enough of that.”

Will fell completely on his back, rolling with laughter. He couldn’t believe it, he made the Great Peter Pan flustered. The face he had! It was only after Pan left and Will ceased his foolish laughing he noticed his own wild grin and heat on his cheeks.

It dropped as soon as he noticed it. No, the thought. It was hot outside. That’s all. When he rose to his feet, he felt his face again, still hot. Was he coming down with a fever?! He stopped at the pond and looked at his own reflection. 

He was as flushed as a rose. That’s it, he thought, dropping to his knees and taking another palm full of water and drowning his face. Rain. He needed rain. It was too damn hot and it was making him delirious. 

They made their way back to camp quickly after that. Felix had been in charge of training while the two boys set out to the forest. When they arrived back, they were met with all of the boys, including Blake noticeably, all lounging around the fire. Jah’sir and Jared were cracking jokes, with smiles and secret messages only they would understand. Sandesh and Blake passed a small flask back a forth, snacking on some fruit and replenishing their energy. When Blake’s dark eyes caught Will’s, they faltered in disappointment. Sandesh was quick to revert his attention somewhere else, maintaining the positive energy as he usually does, and keeping the tension at bay. Felix sat alone, sharpening his short sword.

Will would try to speak with him, he decided. With one step forward, Pan was quick to place a hand on Will’s chest. Warning eyes met with his. A shared look was spared and Pan let go, watching Will slowly approach the blonde. 

Felix’s eyes shifted up, hearing the two pairs of footsteps approaching. His demeanor quickly shifted, he was on edge instantly. His sharp blue eyes snapped between Pan and Will, suspicious. 

“What do you want?” Felix said. 

Will sighed. He knew this would be difficult. “I’m exhausted, you hungry?”

“Pan wear you out?” Felix couldn’t help but crack a small smile. 

Will would take the bait, at least he was speaking to him. He wouldn’t notice the head that snapped in their direction. Blake’s eyes were wide and awaiting Will’s response. Will, blissfully unaware, shrugged his shoulders. “I think if I stand another moment, I’ll curl over and die.”

Felix let out a pitiful laugh. “Yeah,” He drew out. “He’ll do that to do.”

“You talking about me?” Pan called from across the unlit campfire with a smirk.

“All good things!” Will assured, hands up in the air defensively. “All good things.”

“I’m sure.” Blake suddenly voiced, not meaning for his voice to be so loud

All eyes shifted to him in mild surprise. 

“What did you get up to today, Blake?” Pan asked, his eyes narrowing. 

“Pan-” Will called.

“It’s fine,” Blake assured will without turning to him. “Just training…”

“What did you train today?” Pan’s smile returned. This time, it wasn’t genuine. It was fueled by mischief. Will knew the look. “Have you been working on what I’ve directed you to? Will took you down a little too fast during the games-”

“Pan!” Will shouted at him, unamused.

“I’m just surprised!” Pan shrugged Will’s protests off. “Might as well give Will his own bow!”

Blake was quiet, looking off and away from Pan. “I’m surprised you haven’t yet…” He mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Pan’s demeanor shifted, and with it, all the positive energy washed away. The boys looked around, eyes wide and waiting. Scared. Will hated it.

Blake bit his lip, shutting his eyes in frustration. He let out a small sigh before looking back at Pan. “You’ve been babying him since he got here. He’s never been inside a cage. Every time he disobeys you, he’s met with a pat on the back and goodnight.”

All air stills and dies around them. Pan’s look is nothing short of the rage he’s trying to keep at bay. Then came the smile, creeping on his face.

“Pan,” Will called again, slowly walking up to him. “Stop it.”

Pan’s eyes shift to Will and mumbles, “Trust me.” He turns back to Blake. “You think I’m going easy on Will?” 

“Yes,” Blake replied. “We all do.”

“Do we?” Pan looked upon the boy expectantly. “I mean- If so, please, speak up! I'm feeling generous today and… open to criticism.” Silence. “Don’t be shy.”

“Pan! Stop it.” He whispered. “This is ridiculous.”

Pan’s eyes snapped to Will as the smile slowly ceased. “Trust me,” Pan said, and suddenly Will could. His eyes searched Will’s face wildly, as they did moments ago when Will had him pinned to the floor. His lips curled into his teeth until they reset with a soft pop. 

Pan’s eyes snapped to Blake. “What was it you said to Will, Blake?”

“What?” Blake asked, voice trembling. 

“Something about…” Pan searched the sky for the answer until he found it. “Will and I being.. dependent on each other?”

Blake’s eyes widened as he shook with fear. “I-I never- I didn’t m-mean-”

“No, don’t worry!” Pan smiled at him wildly, his gaze landing on Will who looked at him with fearful eyes. “You're right.”

Then, all the air left Will’s throat and dried in his mouth. He curled over on his knees, hands landing between Pan’s boots. “P-” Is all that kept coming out of his mouth, his eyes unblinking and mouth open, as if a breath would enter between his lips. “P-”

“I’ve been too easy on him,” Pan said, stepping back, ignoring the twinge of pain he started to feel in his chest. Like his breath was being ripped from him. Damn this heart, Pan thought. Damn this boy, this beautiful boy. 

It didn’t matter how much physical pain Pan could feel when Will hurt or the mental strain it took not to let Will go and tend to him and nurse him back to health. Suppress it, he told himself, watching Will continue coughing. Suppress those feelings. 

It didn’t matter how many times Felix or Blake screamed for Pan to stop, it was almost trance-like. Watching Will curl over and try to form Pan’s name. His lips twinged into a smile. Something about it fulfilled Pan’s sadistic desire in a way he couldn’t describe. Would it be masochism if he hurt just as deeply, himself?

Will’s teary eyes looked up and begged Pan, begging him to let him go. How beautiful. How pathetic. How painful. 

And then, he did. 

“Let this be a reminder,” Pan shouted to the whole camp, watching as Will heaved his breath. “Next time someone dares to call me easy, dependant, or ridiculous, they will be spending a week in a cage hung above dream shade.” He turned to Blake, who stood trembling. “Do I make myself clear?”

Blake nodded rapidly to Pan’s satisfaction. A smile made its way back onto Pan’s face and turned to Will for the last time. It faltered just a moment when Will’s ice eyes glared at him with the same level of venom. Then, he nodded ever so slightly.

Something strange happens when two people share the same heart. They begin to share the same thoughts, same urges, same feelings, and the same desires. They feel each other's pain and they read each other's energy. They can communicate without a single shift in movement or language. Neither of them felt the other before, and it all reeled up to this entire moment. They both felt it. And Will understood entirely why Pan did that. To preserve his reputation, and to reduce suspected favoritism, because, at the end of the day, Pan did favor Will but he didn’t want anyone really know that. Just Will. 

Will stumbled back into his treehouse and searched for a candle to light on his desk. By now, he had his room blueprinted in his head and could maneuver around it blindfolded. He found the white beeswax candle and pressed his fingers to the wood next to it, where he typically tosses his matches. His fingers met with everything but the small pouch. 

“Damn it,” Will mumbled. 

Suddenly, the small pouch collided with the desk with a thud. Will jumped back in surprise. 

“Relax,” Pan’s voice whispered. Will couldn’t see him, but he knew he was there. Gently, he opened the pouch picked out a match, and stroked it aflame. There, stood Pan leaning against the doorway that led into his bedroom. 

“What’s up?” Will asked casually, still coming down from the shock of being scared half to death. 

Pan didn’t move when Will’s match made contact with the flame. He could have lit all the candles in the room, Will thought, but Pan chose to wait in darkness. Did he want to frighten him? Catch him by surprise?

When his comment was met with silence, Will gazed back at him, expectantly.

“You… understand why I had to do that, correct?” Pan’s voice was softer than a feather but still held solid over the snap of the candlelight and gentle caw of evening crows. 

“I do,” Will replied, just as still as him. “Could have warned me though.”

Pan nodded, taking it in. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Will took that as the end of that conversation and began to make his way to the couch a few feet away. Settling into the loveseat, he waited for Pan to follow. He did eventually and sat on the one directly opposite.

“Quite domestic, this is,” Pan said smugly.

Will sighed. “I’m tired, and you want to talk.”

The soft candlelight flickered over Pan’s face cast shadows past his hard features and illuminated his softer ones. Like his eyes, his nose, and his lips. It let him glow a soft orange and made his green eyes look mildly hazel. 

“I want…” Pan started, looking everywhere but Will. “Well, obviously there's been.. a change in…” Will waited for him to finish, as it seemed he wanted Will to interject. He didn’t. So Pan huffed in frustration. “What I’m saying-” Pan wiped his mouth, like cleaning his lips could let him find cleaner words. “We… We have a different… relationship than the other boys.”

Will nodded, amused by his flustered difficulty. “And you want… that to change?”

“No,” Pan said quickly. “I’m fine with it- I just-” He paused, his eyes finally settling onto Will. “I would like you to call me Peter.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed. He hadn’t noticed the habit of simply calling him by his assumed last name. The shadow’s comment lingered in the back of his head. “Pan isn’t your name?”

“Peter is more…” Pan sighed, fidgeting with the upholstery. “...intimate.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up. “Interesting word you using there.”

“Care to find a better one?”

Will shrugged. “Familiar?”

Pan rolled his eyes. “I’m  familiar  with Felix, do you see him calling me Peter?”

Will shook his head. “I just thought you wanted this blatant favoritism to be hidden from the other boys.”

“Is that what you want?” Pan raised an eyebrow. 

“I prefer to keep the tranquil relationships I have with them.” Will smiled, half-joking. “How do I know you don’t have Felix calling you Peter behind closed doors?”

“Feeling special, are you?” Pan smiled back.

“Quite.” 

A comfortable silence manifested between them. A peaceful understanding between them. That this relationship was more intimate than others. It had to be. They could no longer use the excuse of-

“Felix doesn’t share my heart,” Pan said, repeating his old mantra.

“Well,” Will smiled, feeling blissfully comfortable in this loveseat as he gazed behind Pan at the open window. “If that is all…”

Pan was quick to rise from his seat. “I’ll let you get some sleep, make sure to pretend to be pissed at me tomorrow.”

“It’s never pretend.” Will teased. “You always find ways to piss me off eventually.”

Pan rolled his eyes, now striding toward the door. “Goodnight Will.”

Will watched him go until he was an inch away from the door. He couldn’t suppress the knot in his abdomen any longer. It bubbled and oozed, sending shivers up his spine when he watched Pan’s broad shoulders inch further away from him. He memorized the familiarity of the back of Pan’s head and imagined the feeling of the hair between his fingers. Would it flow effortlessly, light as a feather? Or would it be knitted and unmoving? Would he have to pull it to get some human reaction from him? God, how much did he drink?

 “Goodnight… Peter.”

Peter froze for a moment and then gently looked back at Will. It looked as if he had something to say. Perhaps he was waiting for Will to tell him not to go. To stay. Why would he want to? Did he? Unanswered questions lay bare and open between them. Unspoken gravitational pull grows stronger with every look touch or sound. 

He shook off the feeling, smiled at Will, and turned for the door. Will watched him close the door behind him.

Chapter Text

"Well prove to me I’m not gonna die alone.
Unstitch that shit I’ve sewn,
To close up the hole that tore through my skin.

Well my trust in you is a dog with a broken leg,
Tendons too torn to beg for you to let me back in."

-D.E.

The trees of Neverland are the tallest Will has ever seen. They seemed to tower and hide the rest of the sky above them, like a mother shielding their children from the blaring sun. Today was a particularly hot day, but the wind-aided during training. Today, Will would focus on his hand-to-hand combat. While he didn’t have Pan training him, he worked with Jared on his punching combos. Swing, swing, then kick. Kick, swing, kick. Dodge, kick, swing. Jared held up the leather pads to his hands and met Will’s punches halfway. 

Sweat beaded his skin and most of the boys discarded their shirts and begged for water between breaks of conversation. Pan was busy at his tree, Felix said. It was rare that Pan would spend the morning at the tree, and Will would wonder what he was doing there. Was he meeting the Shadow?

“A storm is headed our way,” Felix concluded, briefly looking up into what he could see was the sky. 

Will liked to imagine if they were in the real world, they would be on vacation in the Caribbean. The water glowed green, and you could see the sand below the waves, washing rocks and seaweed back into the abyss. The trees echoed with wildlife, and when that happened, Will pretended he was camping in the mountains with her best friends. Only there were no mushrooms to be taken and nobody had weed. What they did have was a leafy cigarette Will had grown quite accustomed to, savoring his addiction, even if it didn’t get him the high he wanted, the buzz was easy enough to chase. 

The bud was passed through the circle as the sun blazed over the horizon. Training was completed and most of the boys quickly grew tired and hungry for anything edible. The tiger they had been feasting on was running low, and the meat was about to spoil. Will would volunteer himself to go hunting once more. He enjoyed it. 

With another puff of the leaf cigarette, Felix took a seat next to the boy and quickly plucked it from his grasp.

“That’s enough flower for you.” Felix deducted, crushing the red beaded edge onto the log next to them. “How’s Blake?” He decided on.

Will shrugged, staring blankly at the fire. “Not high enough to talk about him.”

“Bullshit.” Felix joked. “What happened between you too?”

Will shrugged “I think he’s a little envious of the attention Pan is giving me.” 

Felix nodded slowly, picking up a small bowl of berries by the fire and handing them to Will. “Not the only one.”

Will took the bowl gently and picked out the ripest fruit, dusting off any dirt or leaves around it. The bowl felt heavy in his lamp and all he could focus on was the heat in his core and the buzz in his head. It would cool down soon enough when he got food in his system. 

Felix huffed, and spoke softly, only to Will. “Pan looks at you like he did Wendy.”

Nobody else heard it, but it was enough for Will to stop eating. He placed the bowl next to him. Great now he was nauseous. 

“Does he?” Will asked rhetorically. “How interesting. What do you want?”

Felix stood up slowly, careful not to draw attention to himself. “If you want to play with anybody's feelings, it shouldn’t be Pan’s. He trusts you. It took years for him to trust me.”

Felix, Will quickly understood, knew Pan better than the boys did. He understood body language and knew what Pan looked like when he was infatuated with someone like he was Wendy. While the thought of ending up wherever the hell Wendy was made Will feel uneasy, the confirmation of Pan’s emotion made him smile slightly. He wasn’t crazy, Will told himself. Someone saw it. “We understand each other,” Will explained. “It's easier to trust someone when there's no hidden motives.”

“Look-” Felix started, getting interrupted by a loud crash above them. The two looked up at the source and quietly heard another one coming from Pan’s cabin. Felix’s eyes quickly looked back to Will, expecting him to go tend to Pan. Will rolled his eyes and begrudgingly stood off the log, the high wearing off.

“Speaking of the drama queen,” Will mumbled under his breath.

🟈🟈🟈

When Will opened the boy’s door, he was quickly met with Pan’s main room in disarray. Papers had fallen from desks, bottles smashed, and pieces of glass laid on the floor he was careful to walk around. The floor creaked under him, so it was no surprise Pan was storming him, smoke seemingly fuming from his ears. He completely disregarded Will's presence, striding past the animal skin tapestry that led into his bedroom. 

He began to mumble under his breath, swearing at The Shadow, which Will quickly learned was Pan’s own shadow. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, he continued to go on about some woman called Fiona. 

As Pan blatantly disregarded Will's existence in his Cabin, he ultimately decided he would start cleaning up. Picking up sheets of paper, blank or not, one by one and placing them back onto Pan’s desk that sat in the corner, furthest from the door. His stomach churned when the desk he placed the paper back on was already covered by books and crumbled scripts. He picked at them open by one, respecting the boy's privacy all the while letting his eyes linger on words like  HEART  and  TIME  and  ENCHANTED FOREST  in black cursive writing. 

Once his desk was cleaned off enough to the point where you could actually see  it was a desk,  another crash came from behind him. He turned to watch Pan fall on his back onto the couch, fingers rubbing his eyes in frustration. He didn’t ask anything of why he was so enraged, but Pan would speak of it anyway.

“As if he has any idea-” He mumbled, suddenly snapping up and looking over the couch at Will. “He acts like he’s the one keeping this island safe! Like he’s the glue holding this fragile existence together! Does he have any idea how hard I work?!”

Will shook his head, suppressing the smile. “No.” He stated simply. It was satisfactory enough for Pan to crumble back onto the couch and let out a proper sigh.

“Going on and on about what danger the pathetic people of the enchanted forest are in! As if I care.”

Will took his time to carefully walk over the shattered glass. “Do you have a broom?”

“Closet in my bedroom,” Pan said swiftly.

The closet Pan spoke briefly about, held up more like a crowded corner behind the animal skin. “What’s in the Enchanted Forest?” Will shouted eyes casting around for the Broom Pan directed him too. He preferred his feet to not have bits of crystal glass in them. Of course, Pan didn’t have to worry about it. He wore his boots like they were attached to his legs!

When he finally spotted the broom, which was in the very corner knocked over like the rest of Pan’s things, a drawing caught his eye on Pan’s bedside table.

“Doesn’t matter,” Pan replied. “The Shadow acts like we are the ones in danger of her.”

“Of who?” Will asked absent-mindedly, eyes squinting as he picked off the paper hiding the drawing. 

Suddenly, Pan entered the section of his cabin and leaned on the frame separating them. “Some fairy.” He said with his arms crossed. His eyes widened as he deducted what drawing Will held between his fingers. 

The face stared back at Will like a mirror as he didn’t even hear Pan enter the room. He turned, Broom still in his other hand. It was Pan. It was his drawing. The one he made when they spent the whole night together. Of course, it was familiar. 

Pan leaped from the other side of the room to snatch it, but Will was faster. “You kept it?” Will said, a smile creeping on his face. 

“I had nowhere else to put it,” Pan said, trying to grab it from the taller’s hands. “I didn’t want to, Will! Hand it over!”

The lampshade light bled through the paper like the sun shined through a window. A small sentence was struggling to be seen on the back of the page. He turned it over, mildly curious. I was in Pan’s shifty handwriting. 

And in dark ink, like it was written slowly and poured emotion through the pen, it read,  “I want to believe in myself, the way you believe in me.”

His mouth dropped as the words left his sight as soon as it was read. Will turned to watch Pan shove it away into a drawer. “You shouldn’t be touching other people's things. It’s rude and invasive-” His eyes met Will’s again and quickly softened.

Will’s eyes, filled with a confusing mix of adoration and shock left a warm curl in Pan’s stomach. Shame, he excused it as. He never felt shame before. He had never hidden away his feelings like some petty schoolboy. Why was he now?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Pan whispered. 

“Like what?” Will said just as quietly, barely keeping his smile at bay.

Pan shook his head and took a shaking breath. “I made the boys pave a path to the springs, so you're not at risk of walking through Dreamshade bushes.”

Will let him change the subject. “Thank you.” He stated simply. 

“Wasn’t for you.” Pan clarified. It didn’t matter to Will. “You need to wash up anyway. All the boys do. Might as well make a habit of it.”

Will nodded, the smile never dying on his face. Pan, irritated with the result of this pathetic discovery, waited for Will to slap back with something just as Witty. He preferred it. That sly tongue. He waited for Will to call him something like ridiculous, or just ignore the drawing entirely. There was a deep part of Pan that would get on his knees and beg him to. He hated begging. 

“Do you want to join me?” Will asked, his voice trailing slowly and eyes darkening. The implications of which made Pan’s stomach churn further. Maybe begging didn’t seem so bad after all.

“I’m perfectly clean, thank you.”

Will nodded again and all Pan wanted to do was clutch that perfectly cut stubble-filled jaw tight, so it was unmoving. He wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face and replace it with how he looked at him weeks ago. Like he hated him. 

And then it was ripped from him when Will walked away, stifling a laugh under his breath. And Pan was left alone in his bedroom. Cold and alone. He listened to the door shut and the soft steps seed lower until he couldn’t hear them anymore. All the while, staring blankly at the forgotten broom leaning on his bedside table. 

🟈🟈🟈

The water pooled around Will’s stomach soothed his soreness and washed away the funk of the past few mornings. Where once his hair laid greasy and tangled, now stuck damp to his forehead, soap suds forgotten to be rinsed out. With one last dunk of his face into the warm water, the world around him echoed into oblivion. The water silenced the echoing drip cave and submerged Will’s sun-touched face that herbal medicine could not soothe enough. 

He softly came to the surface, wiping his eyes from the salt water and looking back at his towel that lay discarded on a boulder a few feet away. As his legs dripped water knot the stone and left a puddle trailing to the boulder, Will heard footsteps approach the entrance of the cave. 

He turned himself to wrap the towel around his waist hastily before facing the boy who entered. The silhouette was familiar with a blink. 

 “You came,” Will said.

Pan stepped into the cave, the blue and soft purple cast over his face. “Couldn’t let you drown.”

Will smiled, reaching down for his clothes. “Or get kidnapped by pirates?”

The turquoise water illuminated the stone with soft beams of green as the sun casts over the horizon, peaking into the cave. “And then there’s those mermaids,” Pan said with a smile, crossing his arms. “Like bees to honey.”

Will laughs. “Are you saying I attract danger?”

He shrugs. “Danger finds you wherever you are. It follows you.”

Will couldn’t resist, stepping once forward. “Like you do?”

A beat passes. “Like I do,” Pan repeated. 

Pan wasted little time, quickly tossing his shirt to the side when Will’s gaze averted. Keeping his modesty, he dipped half his torso in the warm blue water, the half where he kept his shorts on that he wore under his trousers. Will, putting space between them, propped himself on the rock side, journal in hand, and toes dipping in the water. He watched Pan flip his hair back when he reached the surface.  

His once chestnut hair shadowed into a brown and hung over his sage eyes. Will had never been ashamed to compare himself to other boys’ bodies, especially when he brought all the lost boys to this hideaway. And yet he felt guilty if Pan ever caught him staring a beat longer his arms or abdomen. 

The train of thought led him to the last time Will stepped foot in this cave. The scar suddenly throbbed in the back of his head, and Will’s hands quickly reached back to soothe it. The back of Pan’s head perked up. One might think he heard Will say some exclamation of pain, but Will was silent. When he turned, it was almost like he could feel his sudden resurfaced memory. Anguish washed over his face, and Will watched without protest as Pan approached him in the water. 

Pulling himself up, water drained from his body and quickly made a puddle next to Will, where Pan sat. Will watched carefully as Pan’s hand reached back and gently touched his scalp. He searched the scar for a moment until Will’s hand guided him to where it was. His blue eyes looked away bashfully, suddenly very aware of how they looked. Will- with nothing but a towel around his waist, and Pan- shirtless with his fingers brushing through Will’s damp hair. 

Suddenly, like Pan thought the same, reeled his arm back, placing it back on his thigh. “I… regret doing that.”

Will closed his journal and tossed it to the side. “I deserved it.”

“No boy deserves to be hurt that way,” Pan replied.

Will knows he’s talking about his stepfather. The bald-fuck’s face has burned its way into Will’s mind as he voices echoes words like, “Selfish,” “Bitch,” and “Stupid.” Without thinking of the potential consequence, Will gently pointed at the 3-inch-long scar that trailed above and across his hipbone.

“From a hot pan. I got in the way of my stepfather, and he knocked it into me. He blamed me for the wasted dinner.” Will explained as if it was something as meaningless as a raindrop during a storm.

The blonde nods and Will is almost afraid he would pity him. He didn’t need his pity. He didn’t need anybody’s pity. Instead, Pan points to the back of his shoulder blade. A scar traveled down his contoured back and under his arm a series of vein-like lines branching out in all sorts of different directions. Will knew instantly what the cause was. 

“I got cut by Dreamshade my first few weeks here. I didn’t know about it, and Tinkerbell saved my life.” Then, he turned his hand to show off an older scar, faded enough for Will to have to closely examine Pan’s palm to see it. But it was there, the long thin slice that stretched from the bottom of his hand to in between his ring and middle. “Here, I caught Hook’s sword with my bare head. Hurt like hell, but the boys thought it was the bravest thing ever.”

Will trailed a finger down the thin scar tissue. “You must have been scared,” Will said. 

Pan scoffed. “Of what? That pirate is incapable of-”

“Of killing you?” Will asked, looking up from Pan’s hand. “Can you not die?”

Pan pauses, looking off and into the water at his reflection. “I often find that death exciting. To die would be a great adventure.”

Will let go of Pan’s hand and reached to his side to clutch the rock he sat off on. “Of course, it is for you, you’re immortal.”

“Being immortal, and unageing are two very different things.” The blonde corrected. “These scars are proof enough that I am in just as much danger as the rest of you.”

Will looked beside himself, irritated with the nonchalant attitude Pan had to death. “But you have powers to protect you.” 

“Powers I was granted by the island.” Pan shot back.

Will, noticing this conversation was ending up more like a bickering argument, took a breath and tried to switch the subject. “Did you always have them?”

Pan matched him. “As soon as I woke up here.”

Will, suddenly catching onto where Pan’s comment was leading, perked his head back to the blonde. “Did The Shadow bring you?”

Pan looked at him, a knowing smile on his face. “You're asking lots of questions.”

“You said you would talk about your life.” Will shrugged. 

Pan thought about it, and Will was correct. They did agree to this. “You can ask one more question.” He allowed.

Will blew out a breath into the echoing cave, eyes traveling up and around the ceiling daggered with multicolored crystals that shine like chandeliers. He closed his eyes and thought back to all the questions he had in his journal. He was allowing him one question tonight, so it had to be good. Then, it came to him.

 “What happened to Wendy?” Will asked.

Pan’s eyes faltered and darkened. A sinking feeling grew in Will’s core, the thought that maybe this wasn’t the right question to ask. Although the topic of her came up beforehand, the specific degree of her absence proved unknown, even to boys closest to Peter like Felix. When he didn’t answer right away, Will held his breath and looked away. 

“She died,” Pan stated simply. Will’s eyes widened like that wasn’t something he suspected all along. He didn’t expect Pan to go into detail- and yet, he did. “When she was first here, I loved the way she made me feel. But I couldn’t reciprocate the affection. She missed home and I wouldn’t let her leave. She refused any food I gave her, resented me quickly, and starved herself unconscious until her body was nothing but bones in a cage. Those bones lay buried under my tree.”

Will, briefly dissociating as the mental image of a little teenage girl dead in a cage dissipated out of his head. “Your thinking tree?”

Pan’s voice shook, and so did his arms. “Yes.” He replied. 

Will has watched this before, but never from Pan. He used to have a mental list of things to do in this situation, but it all left him so suddenly. He wanted him to stop feeling this way, or at least not watch him go through it. Without thought, Will reached carefully over and rested his hand on Pan’s. After a beat, after Pan didn’t rip his hand away to tell him to stop, Will clutched it gently and set them both onto Will’s lap. Like it would ground Pan, telling him that it was okay and that he was here. When Pan didn’t move and stared blankly into the water, Will curled his head into Pan’s shoulders. And finally, Pan’s breath trembles. 

“I’ve never told anybody that out loud.” He confesses through short breaths. 

Breath, Will silently begs him. His thumbs gently float over Pan’s knuckles as he memorizes every scar and feature on it. The weight of it, dead but still warm with blood, carried mass amounts of stress. His shoulder relaxed gently, and so did his arm, the hand tightening around Will’s. One squeeze. 

 “Ask me something you don’t know about me.” Will requested.

Pan didn’t have to think long. “What is between you and Blake?” He asked, obviously trying to cover up the breakage in his voice, on the verge of tearing up. “I’m sure he has feelings for you.”

Will settles into the facade, as long as Pan is distracted. “He does. I think he’s jealous of all the attention you’ve given me. We kissed once, which you know about, but I think Blake got the message I didn’t like him.”

“Not in the same way you like women?” Pan asked without thinking. 

Will, suddenly tense, raised himself off of Pan’s shoulder and shrugged. “I like everyone.”

The loss of contact seemed to have the same effect on Pan. “No, you don’t.” He spoke. 

Will rolled his eyes and let go of Pan’s hand. “Fine. I feel attraction to all sorts of different people.”

“Hmm…” All Pan replies, emptying the conversation into silence until Will’s laughter erupts between it and echoes through the cave.

“How did we get to talking about our love lives?!” Will says. 

Pan smiles and it’s genuine. “Yours is non-existent.” He joked.

Will reaches over and ruffles Pan’s now half-dry hair. “Just as non-existent as yours island boy!”

Pan reaches over to ruffle Will’s, which results in Will jumping up and jogging back to his clothes. Laughter echoes through the cave and smiles ache faces. Will didn’t reserve the red on his cheeks for the steam of the water or his sunburn. At least not tonight. 

🟈🟈🟈

Gently, Felix’s hand wraps around Pan’s doorknob. He has knocked repeatedly, and so he assumed Pan was not inside. Letting himself inside, he shut the door behind him quietly upon seeing a series of limbs entangled on a couch that sat facing the wall opposite. A leg and ruffle of dark hair peak out from behind the cushion. Felix walks around it, careful of the creaking floorboards. He didn’t know what he found, but this shocked him in a way that he would never feel again. And yet, it made him strangely secure and happy.

There laid Will, whose head was draped over the armrest in a surely uncomfortable position, with one leg propped up against the backside of the couch cushion and one draped off the edge. Under his chin rested Pan, who was lying victim to Will’s open lips and drool. Will’s arm rested over Pan’s shirt as the blonde's damp hair stuck to Will’s chest, gently rising up and down with a soft rhythm. Pan gently stirred and tucked himself closer to Will, right under his neck. 

With a smile, Felix picked a blanket tossed to the side and draped it over their tangled limbs. The morning was peaking in, and they certainly had a long night spent together. While he was unsure what they go up to, he had never seen Pan smile in his sleep before. 

Chapter Text

“”You’re not a monster,” I said. But I lied. What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing. From the Latin root Monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be  a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and a warning at once.”

“Wait- Blake says, his words catching up with his erupting laughter. It was the three of them around the fire, as the others scattered around the camp. His hand caught Sandesh’s knee. “You can do better! Take some time for yourself.”

Will chuckled, the sound echoing through the trees and around them. “I have.”

“Take some more time for yourself,” Sandesh replied, which resulted in the other two cackling with laughter. “Being alone is fun.”

Blake leaned off of Sandesh’s knee and smelled the plate of food that sat on his lap. 

“You be sniffin’ people?” Will asked, joking.

“Yeah, he sniffs everyone,” Sandesh replied. 

“I do be sniffing stuff actually,” Blake assured, picking a piece of food off his plate and popping it into his mouth. “Have you ever smelled paper?”

“Yo dumb-ass doesn’t read!” Sandesh called out, quickly snickering.

“You should see me with paper-”

“That’s disgusting.” Will interrupted, covering his mouth dramatically. “You're giving me PTSD.”

“Stop it.” Sandesh smacked Blake’s hand when they reached back for another small piece of meat. “You’re giving him war flashbacks.” 

“Will said I am disgusting.” Blake smiled at his best friend. “How should I take that?”

“Great,” Will said monotonously, letting the other two erupt into fits of laughter.

When Blake tried once again to snatch a vegetable, Sandesh accidentally knocked over his entire plate, into the dirt. The soil had dried into dust by now, and the clouds threatened them with rain.

“So, you are littering now?” Will giggled.

“Pick that up!” Blake ordered playfully, pointing at the ground.

Will kneeled over and plucked a piece of meat off the ground. “You’ve been robbed.” He declared, before tossing it into his mouth. Sandesh reached over and poked his hair with a utensil as the dark-haired boy leaned. Blake roared with giggles as Will flinched and retorted back to grab the fork out of Sandesh’s hand.

“Does your hair have a name?” Blake asked Will when he successfully ripped the utensil away. 

“Ralph,” Will said without missing a beat.

Sandesh snickered. “ Ralph,”  He repeated, which made him and Blake laugh more.

“I need a drink,” Blake concluded, rising from his seat and starting for the small cooler beside the unlit campfire. Just then, the sleeping beauty herself arose from her chamber and now made her debut in camp. 

“Look you who decided to wake up!” Jared called from across the campfire. 

Pan, his hair looking softer than usual, casted his eyes down to Will. They held it for a beat and Will suppressed the smile.

“What?” Will asked, his voice full of malice. He knew why Pan stared at him like that for a moment. It was the closeness they held a few hours ago.

Pan smirked, then looked around at each individual boy. “Let’s play a game.”

Hollars of cheer and some disappointment filled the air around them. Will smirked to himself. If Pan was going to drag on this facade, he would play into it. 

Dramatically rolling his eyes, he said “Hide and seek? Please, we all know who you will go easy on.”

Breathes hitched around them as Pan’s eyes challenged Will’s. The blonde's chin raised in pride. “Actually, William, we are playing Capture the Flag. And you're on the smaller team.”

“What?!” Will shouted. “That’s bullshit! You're the one with lethal powers! If anything, you should be on the smaller team.”

“Shut up, Will.” Jah’sir half-pleaded. It really was a demand, but Will was never one to listen to demands, especially by Pan. Before Will could speak up another dying insult, Pan’s attention carried away to the other boys.

 “Jared, you’ll be Team Captain for the red team.” Then Pan pointed to the taller blonde, “Felix, You’re Captain of the Blue Team.”

Jared, with his arms crossed smiled pridefully. “We pick our players?” Pan’s hands lifted in the air and stepped away as if he was watching a science experiment. Will rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Jared’s eyes locked with Will’s. “If I got Will, 'ion need a fourth player.”

A bright smile snapped on Will’s face. Jared knew how to cheer him up. As Will jogged to Jared, Felix quickly picked Jah’sir, which made sense. Two of the tallest people on the same team. It made Will curious about who Pan would join. He always played these games.  

Next was Blake, obviously chosen by Jared for his skilled sneaking abilities. Who needs to be fast when you can’t be caught in the first place? Then Felix was left with Sandesh. But that left an even three players. Will glared at Pan as he crossed over to Felix’s team, tossing a red cloth to Jared and a blue one to Felix. 

“All that matters is you have the other’s team cloth in your base,” Pan explained. “Jared, your base is set by the training grounds. We have the camp. Once you have the other team's cloth inside your base, you let out a whistle.”

Jared’s eyebrows furrow. “I can’t whistle.”

“You won’t be the one whistling,  el peque .” Blake teased, playfully snatching the red cloth out of Jared’s hand and whipping it in front of Felix’s team. 

When Felix jerked forward, Pan was quick to end the conflict there. But Will was ready to pounce on anybody that came near Blake. “Relax, Beanstalk!” Will shouted with a smile. “You’d think you’d be smarter considering how fucking tall you are!”

“Enough,” Pan demanded, shooting Will a warning look. While this was entirely entertaining, Pan needed them to listen. “The whistle will alert the other team, or at least me, that they won. The winners get to skip out on training for a week. The losers,” Pan eyes playfully caught Will. “get to gut the food we eat.” Cringes ensue, quickly followed by grains of disgust. “And then cook it for the other team.”

Jared smirked, looking at Jah’sir with piercing eyes. “Who's your daddy?” He called, making his team roar in laughter. The scene itself was soft enough for Will to smile, a smile he had on his face more recently. The same Pan shared on his own, and when their eyes met, a shared feeling was there. Lingering between them. 

🟈🟈🟈

If you closed your eyes, could you picture the cold fog of a windowpane between you and the world around you? Can you feel the icy condensation drip down the pane as trees speed past the window, one by one? Can you feel the gentle rumble of the street below the soft drift of air blowing through fans and the white noise of the radio dial, seeking a station to play? Can you listen to the cars speeding past one by one? 

Neverland felt damper the more hours that passed through the game. Fog ensued around the trees and engulfed the ground around them, only to be trampled by Will’s feet, sprinting across the forest floor to the camping grounds. 

Jared had put him on offense, with Blake trailing close behind him in the trees. Even as Will couldn’t see yards ahead of him, he knew this forest. He had run past these same trees and followed close behind that same pathway. He knew the feeling of the rock below his feet and the air in his eyes. 

In the cloudy landscape, a thin blue cloth waved like a handkerchief in the air, shouts following. They had their blue flag. He sped back branch and bush until he was inching closer to the back of Jah’sir gripping the cloth with such ferocity, Will was scared they might rip it apart. 

As the brunette talked the taller to the ground, Jah’sir shouted out in exclamation, calling for backup. There was no response and soon enough, Will had him pinned to the ground and was reaching for his blue fabric.

“Who's your daddy?” Will teased, a wild smile on his face when he successfully tore the cloth away. 

“Says you!” Jah shoved him off, which resulted in the two boys wrestling for the flag. 

“For someone as tall as you-” Will huffed, hating the pure fact that taller meant he was stronger, regardless of how much tireless training Will put into his body. “Ugh-” He huffed. “You’d think you would be smarter.” 

Eventually, Jah gave in, and let out one last great push, tossing Will away from the cloth that lay on the soil.

 “Smarter than you think.” Jah huffed. 

Just then, fast and wild footsteps whip past them, and dive down to grasp the cloth off the dirt. Pan.

“Will!” A voice calls from above. There’s no doubt it’s Blake when an arrow flies past Will’s cheek and directly beside Pan’s pathway as he runs toward the training grounds with Will’s flag. “Pan has the flag!” 

An exasperated groan leaves Will’s throat as he raises himself from the ground, whipping his dark hair away from his face. Just to think a moment ago he was missing home. What a brilliant reminder. “No shit!”

“Go!” Blake ordered, dropping next to him and settling beside Jah. “I got him.”

With a nod, Will wasted no time to run after the boy. The bright red cloth led the way through the thick gray fog. 

With each step by Pan, was followed by a quicker one by Will. With every rapid turn of direction, laid Will one step ahead. Pan knew these forests. They were his home territory. However, while Pan had the home-field advantage, Will had one better: every decision granted in Pan’s mind was made in the exact same second by Will. he knew where the boy would spin, jump, and climb. He knew the huffs in Pan’s breath meant he was slowing down soon, and he knew when his beautiful face turned in more than one direction, it meant he was deciding where to turn. 

Will had him lost in his own home. Will had him out of breath and confused. Will had him running in the opposite direction of the training grounds. Will had him thinking irrationally. Until all that was left was trees. More trees. More bush, more green, more fog. 

Eventually, Pan could do nothing but halt his speed and turn back to face his stalker. Will’s face was red and was just as out of breath as him. Still, the boy held himself high and dared not make any sudden movement, carefully studying Pan’s every twitch, sigh, and blink. Wherever he would run, Will would follow. Somehow, he knew it would always be that way with them. A dance, a chase, or an endless game of who would fall first. 

“Can’t teleport away this time, Peter,” Will said, hiding his heaving breaths with a smile.

Just then, those wild green eyes spotted a tree to his right. He knew he could run, and keep running, but when would they have a chance like this? To play? Like prey and predator? The feeling chase craved an overwhelming sense of power over Will. Pan didn’t mind the rumble. 

Quickly climbing up without effort, he swung his knees around the thick branch and let his body fall. The blue-eyed boy couldn’t help but laugh at Pan’s playfulness as he teased the red cloth in front of Will’s face. A hand came up to grab it, and just then, Pan pulled the cloth back, his upside-down smile widening. Will stepped forward, accepting Pan had given up, and followed his game. Every time Pan flipped the red cloth in front of his face, Will smiled wider and tried to yank it from his hand. And every time, Pan was fast enough to pull it away before Will’s calloused fingers brushed the fabric. 

“Peter!” Will giggled.

“What?” Pan asked innocently. Will couldn’t take him seriously, especially when he was upside down like some scene in Spiderman. The connection made him laugh more. Peter Parker… Peter Pan… Peter… Peter… The name buzzed and sang in his head until it was all he heard. Peter… The name swelled on his tongue and left a sweet bitterness. A warm pool of heat in his abdomen. The fog thickened and so did Will’s head. Sun-soaked his skin and drunken his brain until he was uncontrollable. 

His green eyes seemed to sparkle in the setting sunlight, his shaggy chestnut hair waving gently below them. His smile intoxicated Will and ripped the breath from his mouth. His lips dragged over his teeth and coated themselves in slick and sweet saliva. They seemed pinker at the moment, saccharine lacing through his teeth. How it would hurt so beautifully for them to puncture his lips and breathe the same breath as him. Will’s thoughts intoxicated him and seemed to drag him nearer to Pan until there was nowhere else to go. As if there was a thick black smoke trailing around Will’s neck and pulling him- yanking him closer to Pan. His hand elevates ever so slightly to smooth over blonde hair and press into Pan’s sunkissed neck. 

When their lips met, it was as if two worlds collided and meshed into one. Gone was the smoke, hesitantly being replaced with Pan’s hand rising to mirror Will’s own. It was timed long enough for Pan’s eyes to shudder closed, and yet, it was short enough for Will to miss the feeling as soon as he pulled away. Green eyes snapped open and Pan’s grip on the cloth softened, and without a doubt, Will’s fingers tangled with it, and ripped it from the blonde's grasp. 

Disorientated from Will’s lips, and also from defying gravity, Pan wasn’t fast enough to drop from the tree and chase after him. As soon as his boots hit the ground, Will was yards away, leaving his face warm and his lips cold. Was this his plan? To leave him like this? Did he know kissing him would distract him? If he did, why would he use it now, and not later? Why kiss him during a petty game? Was this payback? Pan’s mind raced twice as fast as his heart. 

Did he see Pan reaching for him? 

🟈🟈🟈

Will’s team won that game. And yet, Will didn’t feel like a winner. He felt like a coward. He felt dirty. He felt guilt filling his entire body and flooding the once heat that lay in his stomach. Nausea pooled in his throat despite the cheers that ensued around him. A sip of rum from a flask or a puff of smoke couldn’t drown the feeling of Pan’s lips on his. It couldn’t kill the memory of Pan’s voice cracking, the sound he made when their lips met. It echoed in his head and repeated until he was distorted into something like disgust, or hatred. Another sip of rum, another puff of flower. 

It didn’t matter how hilarious Blake was, or how many times Jared teased Jah’sir for his pathetic attempt at winning. It all echoed in Will’s head and sounded like a white noise. Rain was coming and soon would wash away the fog. Will pleaded to be washed away with it. Or at the least, have it wash away the memory, the guilt, the hatred, the lie. 

Eventually, Peter found his way back to camp. His presence didn’t help soothe the burn in Will’s stomach, but if there was anything Will was a master at, it was pretending everything was okay. 

“I can’t believe Pan let you win, again!” Blake whispered to Will, who shot him a sly smile.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Will whispered back, heat quickly returning to pool in his stomach when his eyes caught Pan’s. Their scared, rapidly searching around, his chest high and his face tight. Pan was quick to look away. 

The energy shifted as the wind picked up at a speed only familiar when something bad was coming. Something bad was coming. The shadow quickly manifested itself and created a barrier between Pan and the boys. 

Nobody could clearly hear what the Shadow said, but they all watched regardless. Pan’s face quickly contorted into something Will had never seen before. He snarled at the Shadow, “That’s impossible.” His voice echoed through the camp. Everyone watched as still as statues.

He strode past the Shadow. “You’re mistaken,” Pan demanded.

“I saw her.” The Shadow pleaded, following close behind. 

Without warning, Pan whipped around, fury blazing in his eyes. “Then you saw wrong.” He snapped.

“She seeks revenge on you.” It explained.

“Who?” Felix asks. 

“The Shadow is mistaken.” Pan insisted, stomping away toward the campfire and lighting git aflame with a flick of his wrist. The fire burned as brightly as Pan’s rage, the heat quickly emerging on all the boy’s faces and illuminating their terrified faces.

“MALCOLM.” The Shadow’s voice thundered. Pan froze in his state, his back still toward the Shadow. “When have I ever been mistaken?” It reminded. 

Pan’s eyes, fixed on the blazing fire as it teased his skin and clothes with dangerous closeness, carefully lifted his chin over his shoulder. “Where is she?” He asked.

“Where do you think?” It sounded more like a demand rather than an open-ended question.

From Pan’s gaze sharpening, they all knew where. They all knew who. It wasn’t possible. Who could it be? She was dead, Will thought. Pan told him Wendy was dead. How could she be in Neverland? Will’s mind only spiraled further he almost forgot to look back at Pan’s. How his mind might be storming the same. Guilt trampled Will’s body and ached him until all he could do was stand up. Eyes wash toward him, all except Pan’s, now fixed on the fire. They stormed and threatened fury-filled tears. His chest heaved in a degree so violent, Will thought he might hurt someone. He watched a scream threaten to bubble under his jaw. 

He couldn’t let the boys see this. He would direct their attention away. Focus on what matters. What they could do. “She probably wants nothing good if she is on the revenge with Captain Hook,” Will said, voice booming. “We can’t let her get anywhere near Pan.”

Silence rumbled around him as he watched the boys look around at each other hesitantly. Then came the glare from the Shadow and Pan’s still and numb expression, not looking away from the flames that illuminated his skin. It was motivation enough.

Will took a breath and began again. “I know she means a great deal to you all, but if she’s a threat to Pan, she’s a threat to us. Put your feelings aside, because now, we have more to fight than just some petty pirates.” The boys nodded around them all, quickly understanding where their loyalty lies. “Grab your bows and sharpen your swords. We leave here for the revenge at midnight.”

The response was imminent, all boys agreeing in quick hollers and cheers, hopping over their logs and retrieving their weapons from down the pathway leading to the training grounds. Surely, Pan had felt the flames in Will’s heart the same. However, it was clouded by his repressed memories and missing of Wendy Darling. Her face, her voice, the feeling of her tender skin holding his. Her curly hair used to knat so quickly when unbrushed. Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight, so clear and jaded. So confused. So lost. So conflicted.

Though this seemingly drowning path of thought stood Will, standing patiently for the approval of his leader. When their eyes match, there is his deep rolling voice bringing him back to shore.

“Are you alright?” Will asks. And suddenly, Pan realized he had never answered that question truthfully before.

Before tears could swell in his eyes, he blinked them away and nodded. “Good plan.” He stated simply.

The tension between them could be cut by Pan’s piercing gaze alone. 

Will smiled and it was almost enough for Pan to smile back. “Good,” He said. “Because I made it the fuck up.”

Chapter Text

ZIP! 

A dart zips past the pirate and sinks into another one’s neck. The poison invades the pirate's blood quickly enough for him to curl over and topple onto the ground. Another dart, and this time, Felix sneaks behind him and suppresses the crash of the pirate’s body. The midnight moon illuminates the deck as the boy’s ink-coated skin blends into shadows.

Black-painted faces hide in the dark with dark gloves holding a cloth over pirates’ mouths until they pass out gently into peaceful sleep on the ground. Blake, the lookout, aims his bow around, coated thick with dreamshade, and looks around wildly for any pirate hiding. So far, their assault is going unnoticed, and the ship is quiet with slumber. Most of the pirates hide under the deck, asleep in their beds as Captain Hook resides in his chambers. 

There’s no sign of Wendy anywhere, and Will and Peter are practically attached by the hip. The brunette grips a small sword in his hand and continues to blow out any candles lighting up the deck. Sandesh holds the stirring wheel, a thick hood over his head. Jared knocks out the remaining guards and sends Felix a signal that there’s nobody else on the deck.

It was going well, Will thought. He didn’t know how none of them saw her. 

In the corner of Peter’s eyes, he sees a hooded figure, knocking a bow in with an arrow. At first, he assumed it was one of his boys. Until he saw the soft blonde hair falling past the hood. She aims her bow and quickly shoots, knowing she has been seen. The arrow flies toward Will’s back and he wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way. Within a split second, Pan appeared between Will and the arrow and grabbed it mid-air, inches from his chest.

The boys are quickly alerted when Peter’s voice echoes through the ship. “Nice try, Kayleigh."

A smile creeps under the shadowed face. Her ivory hand comes up and rips the Hood off her head and the entire Deck goes silent. A pin could drop, and it would wake the ship up. A dart could fly, and cough, a long breath. Pan was silent. Pan was frozen. Really frozen.

“Good thing I didn’t coat the tip,” Wendy says, cocky.

Pan’s eyes widen when he looks down at his hand-stained in black. Then, his body glows a thick purple. It wasn’t dreamshade, but a different poison, suddenly paralyzing Peter in place. A knife shines in the moonlight held in Wendy’s hand and before he can leap toward Peter, Will intercepts the girl.

Expertly, and with the ferocity of an animal, he grabs her wrists and pins the girl to the mast with one hand, the other holding his sword to her throat.

“Let him go or I’ll cut your throat!” He snarls manically.

The ship arises in awoken pirates, all coming up from slumber, weapons in hand. It doesn’t take long for Captain Hook to arise from his office. All eyes are on the black-haired Captain as he moves slowly toward Pan and Will.

“Funny how things come into place, isn’t it Will?” Hook says, a smile creeping on his face. “Just a month or two ago, you were begging us to take you away from Peter. And now? You’re defending him. Fighting for him even.”

“Things change.” Will barks. “People change.”

“It seems history doesn’t.” Hook replies. 

“Give me the word, Will.” Blake requested, aiming his arrow directly at Hook’s head.

“Last chance boy.” Captain Hook, now a few feet away, raises his sword and points to the crew around them. “You can come with us to the enchanted forest, or we’ll kill you.”

“What a shit bargain.” Will laughs, pressing the sword harder into Wendy’s neck, drawing blood. "You kill Pan, I’ll die anyway! Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t kill Wendy right now!”

The Captain smiles. “You’ll be killing Pan only love.” The words sting Will enough for him to falter back, his grip loosening on Wendy.

 “This isn’t your fight, Will.” Rylan suddenly said, creeping up on a different side of them. 

Will looks at the two of them, calculating in his head how he could escape. More pirates emerge, and they are painfully outnumbered. His eyes find Blake, who is waiting for the command to shoot. Then, they find Pan, frozen in place and glaring daggers at Captain Hook. They find Will and some part of his eyes doesn’t deny the comment. There it is again, the sting.

He could slit Wendy’s throat, but that would result in Rylan or Hook hurting Pan. But Blake could shoot the arrow and hit Hook. It could work. Slit Wendy’s throat and turn to fight Rylan while Blake shoot’s the arrow at Hook. He would do it. He will.

His eyes find Wendy’s who stared fearlessly at him. Is this what they looked like when Pan threw her in a cage? How old was she?! She looked no older than 16! She’s just a child. He could hurt an adult pirate without mercy and feel nothing, but killing a girl? An innocent girl who had been kidnapped by Pan, thrown in a cage, and killed herself to get away from him?

That’s it though. She hadn’t killed herself. Did she fake it? She looked perfectly healthy. She looked fierce and beautiful. Like a girl, you would pass in a hallway and admire her beauty. A girl who had never kissed a boy before, who was forced to grow up. Suddenly, that was all that mattered to him. 

Slowly, he backed up, and he heard breathes held exhales in relief around him.

“You’re new,” Wendy said, holding her neck. Gently, she moves around Will and starts to circle Pan, who stands frozen with a glare. ”Got you on a leash, doesn’t he? When I heard about the Pan sharing a heart with The Truest Believer, I didn’t think them stupid enough to do it! But then again, Pan can be incredibly persuasive.” 

“Let him go,” Will demanded. “I let you go.”

She stopped inches from Pan’s fierce face. The energy between them could be cut with a knife. The history. The connection. She smiled. “No, I don’t think I will.” Then, she continued to circle him, her finger trailing over his broad shoulders. “You see, this was our plan. We knew word would spread quickly of me on The Revenge, and Peter would come running back to me like a pathetic little puppy.” 

His name rolled off her tongue so casually. Will regretted letting her go within seconds. “What was his goal, huh? To kidnap me again?” She laughed. “Like he kidnapped you?” 

Will stayed silent, and then, Wendy had her answer. “Oh, it was your idea, wasn’t it?” She smiled pitifully at Will, stepping toward him, and then, Blake’s arrow aimed for her instead. Wendy’s voice trailed off into a soft song of sarcasm. “Did he feed you lies along with promises of safety and freedom? Did he give you the idea of you guys getting closer? That you were equals.” She circled Will. “Let me tell you this, Peter isn’t human.” She whispered into his ear. “He is incapable of love and feeling. The quicker you boys learn that: the quicker they can come back home.”

Will watched her walk toward Captain Hook, and he couldn’t help his witty tongue from snarling back at her. “Oh, I’m sure a girl like you missed your silver platter and golden spoons.” His comment successfully dug into Wendy’s head, her eyes snapping angrily at him. “What was your excuse, huh? Why did you and your brothers come here?”

“We didn’t want to grow up,” Wendy said. “But we had to.”

Then, Felix’s eyes widen. “Will.” He called. “Do the thing.”

Will’s eyes never left Wendy. “What thing?”

Wendy smiled, amused at this pathetic attempt at escape. She was also unsure of the topic of discussion.  

Felix spoke hastily. “The thing you did when you and Pan were fighting over the coconut.”

Will’s eyes snapped to Felix; eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The thing- Oh!” He gasped.

His eyes looked around at every boy on the deck. Sandesh is by the wheel, Blake is on top of a post with his bow aimed at Wendy, Jared is being cornered by two pirates, Jah’sir is holding a sword to one pirate's neck, and two more creeping up behind him. Then, his eyes caught Pan’s. Each and every one of them knew what Will had to do. He had only done it in moments of anger, and maybe even passion, but now? He had to focus. And Wendy was getting suspicious.

“Whatever your pathetic plan of escape is, it won’t work.” She snapped. “You’re stuck here.”

Captain Hook suddenly understood. He had seen this boy do it before. How he could do it was a mystery, but the pirates assumed it had something to do with Pan and Will sharing the same heart. “Wendy-” He said, eyes wide. Then he reached over to Will to seize him. 

But it was too late. Smoke and wind consumed Will and Pan until all that was left was Wendy and the pirates alone with the boys.

“PETER!” Wendy screamed ferociously.

🟈🟈🟈

Will, lightheaded, suddenly collapsed upon Pan’s desk. The poison must have worn off during the transition because Peter was quick to start screaming at Will. 

“You didn’t teleport the boys?!” He screamed.

Will held his head and leaned back. “I tried!” He exclaimed.

“You tried-” Pan’s eyes were wild and manic. “That’s not Wendy! She could hurt them!”

Will rubs his eyes in exhaustion, suddenly coming back to his senses. “What?!”

Pan moved around his cabin, opening drawers and searching for something. Something Will had no idea what. It looked all too similar to the time when the Shadow pissed Pan off. “I was right. Wendy is dead.” He spoke quickly, his voice shaking. “She didn’t come here with her brothers. Just her. She came here because I wished the boys a mother. Whoever that is, she is much more dangerous.”

Will suddenly felt very nauseous. “Will she hurt the boys?!” Will moved to the side as Pan shoved books and bottles off his desk. His eyes were wide and searching the room around him. His whole body was shaking. Everything was shaking for him. His breaths were short, his voice contoured and failed to make complete sentences.

“No- I don’t- If she wants to keep up the facade- I don’t-” He suddenly stepped back, hand in his hair. “She won’t.”

“What do we do?” Will asked.

Pan dropped his hands to the side of his body, desperately trying to calm himself. His eyes looked around his room, his shelves, his dresser, his desk, his couch, He counted the number of poisons that lay in his cabinet, the knives he had collected, the fairy dust in his bedroom, the drawing of himself Will had made. It all made sense to him in his head, the connection, and yet it all felt like oil to water. “We kill her.” He decided on. “But we need help.”

“Ok.” Will agreed, trying to match his level of self-control. To be honest, his manic fear was matched in Will. Maybe if Will tried to calm himself, Pan would result in doing the same. “Who would help us?”

Then, Pan’s wild eyes met Will’s. “The mermaids.” He sighed. “And maybe the fairies if you can convince them.”

🟈🟈🟈

That same moon that shined on Peter’s green eyes cascaded across the ocean waves and dribbled on the sand. The tide comes in crashing around them as Peter rises above it on a boulder, kneeling down to speak to the siren. Will watched yards away, arms crossed with an uneasy plunge in his stomach. Just hours ago, he was terrified to be alone with him, afraid of what he might say to him. Now, all they had was each other, forced to confront the undressed energy between them.

The clouds above them rained with drizzling water. It soaked Will’s hair and fell like tears down his cheeks. The cold never bothered him before like it did now, the dark never so terrifying. The ocean never so unknown. He hated it. If he could plunge into the ocean headfirst and wash away all the lustful thoughts he ever had about Peter, he would. But he knew it wouldn’t work. 

Like a corked bottle unplugging, like a glass shattering, and like a scream bubbling under Will’s chin, he started to sob silently. He covered his mouth and suppressed the sound, hoping the redness of his puffy face would be excused by the bitter cold. He prayed for the fog to be carried away with him, humiliation crowding his already heavy head. 

Pan’s eyes looked past the mermaid and onto Will, dark and conflicting. Will tried to wipe the tears away as if more didn’t keep coming. He gave up and tried to cough his broken voice into a sad smile. Pan smiled back, hesitantly. Will couldn’t hide, no, not from him. And when Pan approached him, Will cleared his throat.

“I’m a little scared of them.” Will faked a small chuckle.

Pan brushed the comment away. “Don’t worry they’re harmless to me.”

Silence crashed between them and echoed in the moonlight. Pan crossed his arms and sighed heavily, looking off to the side. 

“Peter…” Will said. He wasn’t even sure if he could call him that anymore. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I…”

“The boys will be fine-”

“No, the kiss.” Will intercepted, watching as Pan suddenly tensed up. “It was stupid. It won’t happen again.”

Peter doesn’t reply right away. He looks at Will, really looks at him. Like he was the center of his universe, like maybe if he couldn’t count every molecule of him, he could pick out the pens wrong and replace them with better, newer ones. Ones that didn’t kiss him, ones that didn’t make pathetic jokes in serious situations, or ones that didn’t have an addiction problem.

 “You look better in moonlight,” Pan says, softly.

Will has to keep those molecules from crumbling into disarray. He can’t stop himself from softening, from melting. “You can’t say things like that,” Will whispered as thunder crashed behind them. The rain poured hard down onto them. “Not to me.”

“Why not?” Pan asked, eyebrows furrowing.

Will sighed, exasperated. “Because you don’t know- ... you don’t mean them that way.”

Pan, suddenly offended, raised his voice. “Don’t tell me how I feel. Don’t let others tell you how I feel.” The harshness silences Will and forces him to look everywhere but Pan. The sand, the rock, the ocean, the moon, the stars. A hand raises, just as it almost did a few hours ago, and drags under Will’s ear and cups Will’s cheek. “Let me tell you,” Pan says, pressing his forehead against Will’s. Will trembles terribly. He wants to collapse into Pan. The desire almost failed Will when he suddenly felt Pan’s rain-coated lips on his forehead. 

His lips part and exhales all his worries. A hand comes up and grasps Pan’s arm.

“After we defeat her, we’ll talk more about it,” Pan assures. “But I need you to-”

“I know.” Will breathes, their lips now inches away. “I trust you. I do.”

Pan’s gaze fights between Will’s lips and eyes. He settles for his eyes. “Just give me time.”

🟈🟈🟈

I can’t sleep. I don’t think Peter can either. I keep hearing him rustle in his cabin above me. Footsteps clatter around as if he is pacing back and forth. I’m tempted to go up there and tell him to sit still. But I know I can’t. I know he’s hurting more than me. More than I could ever hurt. 

How selfish of me, and yet, if I had known this would happen, I still would have done it. I still would have kissed him. If just for a brief moment I could make time stop for him, to give him one last second of contentment or understanding. It’s still confusing though, there are feelings I bear for him. I can feel them internalizing in my heart and tugging my veins into hot strings whenever he is around. 

The light starts to creep into the world around us and I can’t help myself from trying to interpret the muffling words Peter says to himself. Every step, every breath. I curse these floorboards for being so small, so painfully thin. Just thick enough for me to hear Peter saying my name. 

I call back for him. Perhaps if I reach up and brush my finger against the hard ceiling, I will feel his. Another reminder that he is greater than I will ever be. He will always hurt more, feel more, control more, love more, and certainly hate more. I can’t imagine what he is feeling. The conflicts between Wendy and I. The thought of him still feeling a twinge of romance between them breaks my being. Even as I try to repeat the mantra he said to me, about not sharing her desired feelings, I still can feel their connection in their gazes. It’s not longing, and more like resentment. So much more history. More history than Peter and I share.

When I call there is no answer. At least for a moment. Then there are footsteps. They echo down, down, and down until they settle on the other side of Will’s front door. I wait for him to knock. I can see his silhouette outside. He doesn’t. We are at a standstill. 

I wait for him to open the door, to hear it click open, and for him to stand there and say, “I can’t sleep.” and perhaps I would say, “Me neither.” and we would lose the night together. It would make the minutes ticking by seem faster. We would lose ourselves in the independence. We would share fears and perhaps desires. It scares me to think about what Peter and I might do in a room alone together. Alone together with no responsibilities. No waking call, no boy coming to knock, to interrupt. To stop me from kissing Peter again. To stop Peter from kissing me 

Before I know it, he is gone. I’m sure he was thinking the same thing I was moments ago. He was scared. And like he forever will be, was more scared than me. More compelled. More everything. He is so much more than I will ever know or see or become or be. He is greater. 

And to think, he dares to share a heart with me. 

Chapter Text

The Tree of Pixie Hollow glowed with such vibrant golden hues, that it suffocated the air around them. Just the energy of the new world around them, so unknown to Will, was enough to bring a new sense of pride to Will’s heart. He didn’t know how dark Neverland had been until this tree lit up the large villages around them. Two guards, heavily equipped with a vast amount of armor, lead Peter and Will across the main bridge that leads into the tree.

Truthfully, neither of them had an ounce of sleep. Sleep didn’t matter to them, not right now. Even if they lay down, sleep wouldn’t come away near them. It would peer over them, just out of touch, and as Will could reach up for it, thoughts of the lost boys getting tortured flooded him and clouded his mind. Sleepless. He would be sleepless until the boys were safe.

Thick branches towered over them, larger than the trees of Neverland and twice as tall. Will had wondered why Tinkerbell wasn’t small like she was depicted in media. Fairies, in general, were decided so little. A flicker of dust on your shoulder, ringing like a bell in your ear. He felt so small. He made a point to stick close to Pan, following him in every way, whether that be his incredibly tireless demeanor, steps, or breath.

Once they entered the towering tree, the room expanded around them in a series of levels. Each level bustling with working fairies, sometimes flying in-between levels with a small trail of pixie dust floating off of them and landing on between Will’s fingers. 

Then, large doors opened, revealing a beautiful brunette fairy, dressed in a series of blue fabric draping around her elegantly. The guards bowed their bodies, but Pan remained still. 

“I hear you are looking for help with the pirates.” She spoke clearly. Her voice was soft followed by a commanding, “I suggest if you want to get on the right foot with us, you respect me.”

Peter was silent, jaw clenching in frustration. He bowed his head gently to his chest, briefly smacking Will out of his trance to follow suit.

Her soft eyes cast over to Will, who looked at her nervously. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

“I’m Wi-”

“I know who you are.” She smiled sweetly. “The whole island does. I am Mother Superior. Some call me the Leader of Pixie Hollow. I thank you for your sacrifice.”

Something in Will’s stomach dropped. “Thank you.” Nobody has thanked him for that yet. Not even Pan. 

Sensing the energy shifting, Pan pushed past Will and began to walk beside Mother Superior. “Neverland is in danger,” Pan explained.

“And Captain Hook has something to do with it?” She asked, locking her hands behind her back and levitating to be taller than Pan.

“I wish to create a temporary treaty,” Pan said, struggling with the last few words. “I recognize the Lost Boys and Fairies don’t have the best history-”

“You kidnapped Tinkerbell.” Mother Superior reminded him. “I think our resentment is explainable.”

“As is mine,” Pan mumbled. “Regardless, we both live here on this island. I have already contacted the mermaids and they’ve agreed-”

“The mermaids?” She exclaimed, pausing in her flight and turning to take a better look at Peter and Will. “This is more serious than I had anticipated. Oh, would you look at yourselves! I’ll have a room stored out for you two. We will discuss more later.” Suddenly, she rushed close to Peter. “We cannot enlist panic amongst the fairies yet.”

“They should be panicking,” Pan whispered. “Somebody is on that damn ship pretending to be my Wendy-”

“I thought she passed.” She furrowed her brows.

“He has reason to believe she isn’t Wendy.” Will chipped in.

Mother Superior's eyes wandered over Will for a moment until she floated over to him. “And your boys are on that ship?”

“Yes.” Will nodded.

The fairy nodded, processing this new information. “I understand. We will construct this alliance tomorrow morning. Now, you both need rest. I can feel your draining energy. You’ve been through hell today.”

Pan cocked up a brow and laughed. “Empathetic as always, Mother?”

She gave him a stern look before sending them off with her guards.

🟈🟈🟈

Pan’s face was filled with nothing but resentment and disappointment when they entered their room. As he entered the room first, followed by Will, he tossed the satchel he brought with them onto a bed. A signal that he had claimed the mattress as his. Closer to the door. 

The room didn’t feel like a room, and much more like a hotel scrambled together last minute. Which was exactly what it was at its core. Regardless, Will was enthralled with the aesthetics of Pixie Hollow. 

Two lanterns lay on either side of the two beds separated by a single bedside table. A large circle window pressed out aided Will to see the nightlife glow of the tree. Ines trailed up and around the window like tendrils. Greenery was prominent in Pixie Hollow, as was the dense population. 

Will chose the bed beside the window, entranced by the beauty of the world around them, he couldn’t hear Pan leave for the washroom. Turned to gaze at the very open door and the soft patter of water on the floor. Steam oozing out. He was showering. 

Right. Hygiene. They had been so caught up in the chaos, Will had completely forgotten his face was smudged with black ink with his arms bruised and sore. He tore off his shirt and abandoned it on his bed, settling for the sink outside the bathroom door to scrub his face. 

The water ran gray until it ran clear. Will face was red and raw and his hair had been victim to his tireless scrubbing. By the end of it, the shower had shut off and Pan returned to the room, hair damp and in a better change of clothes. 

Right. Clothes. Will glanced back at the forgotten shirt on his bedsheet, damp with sweat and smelling like, well, like sweat. Typically, he would abandon his trousers before he slept, but his modesty couldn’t let him. He took the hand rag hung to the side and dried his damp hair.

Pan searched through his satchel, bringing forth countless bottles of ingredients, some liquid, some a variety of what looks like spices. Will watched him curiously as he crossed the room to his bed. The shirt he cast was plucked up when suddenly-

“Don’t,” Pan said, not looking at him, pretending to be focused on the task at hand.

Will’s eyes widen briefly before settling in blatant confusion. “Don’t put on my shirt?”

Then, Pan’s eyes looked through his lashes at Will. His eyes were under the shadow of the lantern above. “I think you heard me.” He commanded. Under the view of Will, Peter looked absolutely cunning. 

Will dropped the shirt on the floor and perked up a small smirk. “Do you prefer me without it then?”

Pan didn’t answer that yet held his gaze all the same as Will approached him. One slow step at a time until they were a foot away from each other. 

“Don’t,” Pan warned.

Will’s smirk widened, cocking his head to the right. “Don’t what?”

One more step forward, and then Pan looked away, panic in his eyes. “Will-”

Will hands, almost on instinct, snatched his chin gently and guided his gaze back to Will. 

“Words, Pan.” Will breathed. “I need words.”

Pan, suddenly shamelessly, took his time to admire Will’s entire bare torso. His collarbone, his slow-rising chest, and the hair trailed down between abdominal muscle, lower and lower until he met the seam of his trousers and belt buckle. Then they locked up with Will’s flushed face. 

With a smile, he smacked his hand away. “I told you not to call me that.”

Will took it as such and backed up, a smug smile on his face. “What would you like me to call you?”

“I recall telling you such.” He quipped back, placing his bottles on the table between them. That painful table. 

This was going to be a long night.

🟈🟈🟈

“This is ridiculous.” One council member spoke. The table around them was shaped into a great circle, with Mother Superior sitting proudly next to Peter Pan. The man boasting about the treaty, sat across the table. He held a thick and long beard. He looked wiser than he sounded. “A treaty with Peter Pan?! Have we forgotten what he and his ruthless boys did to us all those years ago?! There is reason behind not giving them pixie dust.”

“We are not giving them dust,” Mother argued back. “We are saving Neverland.”

One woman wearing a dress made of soft autumn leaves scoffed. “And we supposed to believe that the boy-king wouldn’t try anything after the fact? Abuse this treaty?”

“They have come to us in a moment of desperate need.” Another argued, that this woman held her blindingly white hair in a high braid. 

“I say let them die.” The young man scorned, shrugging. He looked in his thirties and was sitting beside the wise man. “One less problem for us.” 

“It’s not about saving them.” The White-haired woman argued. “It’s about saving the island.”

“Why do you want to save Neverland?!” The young man said.

“Because I’m one of the idiots that live on it!” The woman roared, standing up and slamming her fists into the table, revealing a slim and revealing ice dress. Snowflakes floated around her like fireflies. “Including you! Now if you're smart, you will negotiate this treaty and sign it willingly.”

“We are running out of time.” The autumn woman pleaded.

“How do we know the island is in such danger?” The old man suggested. “The boy could be fibbing for all we know.”

Pan stood up, suddenly infuriated, and exclaimed, “Do you see my boys with me?!”

Will reached out for his arm, trying to pull him back into his seat in a manner of coax.

“It is not every day that a person shapeshifts into another.” Mother voiced calmly as if she had not heard the argument taking place in front of her. “It is a power held by only powerful people. People capable of destruction. If they are after Peter Pan for whatever reason, they could be after the island as well.”

“How have we not been alerted of this?” The old man replied.

Mother took a long breath, closing her eyes and exhaling in patient frustration. “Because she resides in the identity of Wendy Darling.”

The young man is dressed in a variety of vibrant hues. “Peter’s girlfriend?”

“She died on the island years ago, and yet, here she is.” The mother confirmed. 

The subject of the intruder’s made-up identity nerved Peter and turned his demeanor tense. His knuckles bunched up under the table and Will was quick to reach under it and hold one of them, soothing his frustration with a padded thumb.

“Yet another reason why we shouldn't trust Peter Pan.” The old man explained. “Must you be reminded of why the poor girl died?”

“She starved herself to death in a cage.” The spring-time man exclaimed. “A cage the boy-king put her in!”

“Regardless of our history with him, a temporary treaty must be made!” The Autumn colored woman pressured. 

“Temporary for how long?!” He shouted back, twice as loud. “Will he come begging at our doorstep for pixie dust when this virus is chased out?” He turned for Mother Superior. “Why not get rid of them ourselves?”

“We can’t do it without help. None of us can.” Mother reminded. “Pan has already made contact with the sirens-”

“The sirens?! Tell me you're joking!” The man laughed.

“He is desperate for help.” The winter woman crossed her arms and pressed her fingers to her eyes, rubbing them with furrowed brows. “And we should be too.”

“How he has manipulated you so.” The old man shook his head, trying to calm down the man beside him.

A quiet settled over them until Mother spoke up, once again quiet and commanding. “They came here in shambles from the battle he fought with them.”

The spring-time man’s eyes scorned over to William and scoffed. “And who is this?”

Will, who had enough of this pathetic excuse of entertainment, rose from his seat. “My name is William Rivers.” He said, trying his best not to tremble. “And I have the heart of the truest believer.” Eyes widened around them, and so did the man’s. “I saved your island from rot and destruction the first time. I came here resenting Peter Pan, just as much as you. My loyalty resides nowhere but my own life and the lives of my friends and the life I have created here-”

“The life Pan made you adapt t-” The man corrected. 

“And I’m better because of it.” Will didn’t let the man talk over him. It didn’t matter how often he tried to interrupt him, he continued to speak, taking the attention of the fairies around with him. “Without Neverland, there is no Pixie Hollow. What will happen if there is no Pixie Hollow? No pixie dust.”

The old man stood up, resting on his cane. “Don’t recite our priorities to us, boy! You are just as naive as the rest of them.”

Will’s heart was racing twice as fast now. “I swear on the life of my sisters and brothers in the mainland.”

Peter’s eyes raised in surprise and reached out for Will’s arm. “Will-”

Will ripped it away, all eyes on him. “I swear on the lives of all the children who are lost in their own homes, who are struggling in poverty, in anguish, in abuse, in addiction, and chaos. I swear on the life of Devin, who was the first to follow Pan, and the most recent to leave.”

“He died trying to leave.” The man snarled. “We all know that-”

“HE DIED TRYING TO SAVE ME.” Will’s voice roared. The room quieted around him and Pan force in shock. They all did. The sheer echo of the scream vibrated the ceiling around them and made the man jump back in fear. Will took a breath and softened his voice. Or at least, tried to. “He died trying to save me… Like Peter is trying to save you. Now for GOD’S SAKE–” A pause. “Listen to him.” Will pleaded.

The room quieted and when Will looked back for Mother Superior, she was looking at Pan. Those bright green eyes, wide and alert, and absolutely smitten with the boy in front of him. Never has anybody, in the history of Pan’s ageless life, defended Peter with such wild ferocity. A smile crept its way onto Pan’s face. He tried to suppress it. He couldn’t. 

When Will sat back down, he tuned out the rest of the negotiations. All until he suddenly saw the document in front of him. 

And under Pan’s full name, was his awaiting signature.

Chapter Text

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZ9PSJpqtWE

Maliam's Dance

They met Zarina later the same day. For a fairy, she is stunning. Fair skin with thick, wavy auburn hair, and light hazel eyes. Mother Superior explained she was a Dust Keeper and resident of Pixie Hollow before she left and led a life in joint forces with the Pirates of Skull Rock. After a brief conflict, she resides peacefully with Pixie Hollow and is the Colonel of their military precinct.

She stands at Pan’s height and takes into regard the changed power dynamic, leading them through their very own training camp. Hundreds of fairies in dense populations crowd the camp and battle their peers in a series of defenses. It’s intimidating, to say the least, and yet, strangely comforting they were not an enemy.

Mother Superior demanded Zarina led the Pixies to fight with Peter Pan and the Mermaids. And through the explanation, they devise a plan. The three of them stood in a semi-circle around a single table that held a blueprint of the pirate ship. 

“The mermaids are to attack from the water below, correct?” Zarina inquired.

“Where else?” Pan rolled his eyes. “The sky?”

Will giggled and nudged him with his hip. “You’re beginning to sound like me.”

Zarina’s thin gloved fingers traced the golden-brown map and marked the space above the three masts. “We will fly here and drop our troops onto the deck. I’ll split them accordingly. Where will you two be?”

Peter and Will, who were smiling like idiots at each other, resumed back to the conversation. “Sitting on a beach sipping a tequila sunrise,” Will mumbled. Then, he pointed to the deck where the steering wheel sat. “There. I will take on Wendy, and Pan will take Hook. He knows his fighting style better and-”

“Are you stupid?” Pan exclaimed. “No, I’m taking Wendy. She’s not some girl. She’s powerful, and I’m not gonna have you getting hurt.”

Zarina, not impressed, marked the two spots next to the wheel. “If anything happens to either of you, the other takes the boys and leaves.” She orders.

“What?!” Will exclaimed. “No, I’m not running! I need to stick with him. He dies, I die, remember?”

“This is war, Mr. Rivers.” Zarina reminded the boy. “People might have to die.”

Pan’s eyes waver between Will and Zarina. “Are you saying we won’t make it out?” He asks, voice low. 

“Depends on how bad this being is.” Zarina shrugged. “And how bad she wants to kill you.”

Will brushed over the clear tenseness of the topic. “Okay- so, we get Wendy pinned or whatever, what then? Slit her throat?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Zarina explained. “I’ll summon Our Mother and she will reveal her identity. We will do whatever it takes to keep the island safe.”

“Even if that means killing her?” Pan asks, strangely spacing out on the map.

Will looked over, brows furrowed in worry. “It’s either her or one of us, Peter.”

Pan quickly snapped out of it. “I know. I know…” Then, his eyes landed on Will. “Listen, If I don’t… If you see me-”

“I have your back, Peter,” Will said, softly.

Peter nodded quickly, shrugging off the painful ache in his stomach. “Alright.”

A beat passes between them, and neither of them looks away. Suddenly, Zarina chimes:

“Right, so, if you two are done staring longingly at each other, I would like to get back to work.”

And it snaps them out of their trances.

🟈🟈🟈

As if this island couldn’t hold any more celebrations, one was held for the treaty between Peter Pan and Pixie Hollow. It was hosted at the Pixie Hollow tree when the sun set over the horizon, and of course, Peter Pan and William were mandated to attend. 

The branches were lit up with lanterns and candles, filling the scene with bright warm light. A space was reserved for the dancing, and many fairies went barefoot and danced with their hands in the air like white women in a club. Occasionally they would play something other than the tireless mythical hymns, and the girls would drag their boy toys out to dance in some fantastical mating ritual. 

It did interest Will, but it was completely different than what he was used to. He had heard of the folktales. The ones about entering a fairy circle and dancing until sunrise. He had no intention of dancing in the first place.

Will had arrived late, which he considered being on time, and now stood in a corner where nobody could pay much attention to him. He prayed all the attention would go to Peter, which is where Will’s attention certainly went. 

The blonde was dressed in a warm white, medieval chique, formal outfit. God, did he look good. The color lit up his face in ways that made Will’s stomach churn. His reputation proceeded itself, and so did his looks. Being arguably the best-looking in one room did wonders for him, as countless fairies approached him and thanked him for his “gracious” agreement. As if the negotiation was anything but graceful. Will had to force Pan to his seat so he wouldn’t leap over the table and choke out the pathetic man. 

Speaking of which, he approached Peter and began to speak with him. Going on Peter’s body language itself, it was nothing comfortable for him. With a groan, he downed his champagne and crossed the floor. 

“You might think you have these idiots fooled, but you can’t get past me, Peter Pan.”

“Was that a threat?” Peter scoffed, clearly tense and yet still acting so painfully casual. 

“It’s a promise.” The man stepped one step closer and that’s all it took for Will to intervene.

Will’s fingers dug so tightly into the man’s shoulder blade, that it would almost look like an assault. But he played it off by rolling his arm around the opposite shoulder. 

“Hey! You’re the guy from the negotiation!” Will exclaimed, holding him tightly in a half-arm lock. His grip was ceaseless, and so was his smile. “I’m pretty sure the discussion ended hours ago!”

The man shoved him off and Will let him, as it would look like he was being pushed. Eyes cast around them, and the man stepped closer to Will, sizing him up in dominance.

“I’m not finished with him.” He spat lowly in Will’s face.

Will’s smile never left. He was entirely amused at this blatant expression of jealousy. “You know, where I come from, people who talk themselves up and do nothing about it… well, there’s little bitches.”

Eyes widen around them as Will steps impossibly closer to the Man. He stumbles back and Will smiles wider, taking his time to size him up himself. “So, I guess what my question is… are you?”

There’s no response, only a face full of fury. 

“Are you a little bitch?”

A fist raised to make contact with Will’s face when suddenly-

“Gideon!” Mother Superior shouted from across the floor. The man, Gideon, turned quickly to her and bowed his head. 

“Mother-”

“Enough.” She demanded, marching toward them. “I’ve seen enough out of you.”

“But Mother-”

“I said-!” She half-shouted and gave him a warning look. “...enough.”

And with that, he marched away, like a toddler in a tantrum.

Later that same evening, Will made a point to stick next to Peter, who hadn’t even touched his first glass of champagne. When he handed it to Will, Will asked- “Are you even going to drink this?”

“No,” He stated simply. 

Will downed it quickly and gave it to the closest waiter.

 “You're disgusting.” Pan sneered.

“You love it,” Will whispered slyly in his ear. 

The pair made their rounds around the room and got the know the council members they so desperately argued with a few hours ago. The winter woman, who was called Eira, was the guardian of the winter months in Pixie Hollow. The autumn woman called Laurel, took a strong liking to Will as the two conversed over Will’s entire time in Neverland, and even how Pan came to have half his heart.

“From what it looks like,” Laurel says, “He holds more than just your heart.”

Will giggled, sipping on his third glass of champagne and feeling the effects of the alcohol. He thought he had built up a tolerance to the rum they carried at camp, but he supposed the champagne they brewed here was more potent. It was in fact, much sweeter. 

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

Laurel rolls her eyes. “Oh please, you’ve been gawking at him since you saved him from Gideon.”

Will scoffed, half-choking on his drink. “I didn’t save him- I mean, gawking? That’s a little strong.”

His eyes settled back onto Pan, who was comfortably speaking with Mother Superior. And laughing. His smile lit up Will’s heart and warmed his chest. Perhaps it was the champagne. 

“And that look isn’t?” She giggled, snapping Will from his trance. “You should ask him to dance.”

“Oh,” Will gushed. “I don’t dance- at least, not like that.” He referred to the woman and her friends gently swaying in a majestic rhythm to the soft guitar and harp. 

“I hear Pan’s flute has some attributing qualities,” Laurel reminded him. “You have never danced to his music before?”

“Ours are different. They are… unhinged. Shameless.” He tried to remember the last time he danced freely with the boys. The memory made him smile. “There’s no judgment there.”

“Sounds nice,” Laurel assures. “Pan played it for us one day a long time ago. He is so wonderful with it.”

Pan’s eyes landed across the dance floor at Will. 

“He is, isn’t he?” Will mumbled. 

Before he knew it, Pan had crossed the floor and approached the two with an open hand. “I hate to steal you away from what I can only think is riveting conversation, but Mother Superior insists I dance.”

Will chuckled and took his hand. “Have you not been approached by countless women already?”

“None of them interest me,” Pan confessed, gently walking Will to the center of the floor. “Not in the way that…” Will waited for him to finish until he realized Pan was waiting for him to catch on. His teasing smile was relentless and forced Pan to finish with entranced eyes.  “That you do…” He breathed. 

Then, a dark piano plays and is quickly joined by a cello. This music was softer and slower. 

“Are you going to ask me?” Will whispered.

“Haven’t I already?” Pan smirked, an eyebrow cocking up. Then, Will’s heart jumped as he bowed his head and reached out his hand. “My apologies. Would you care to dance, William?” His eyes glinted with mischievous intent that only a schoolgirl would fangirl around. 

Will took his hand. “I would.” 

There were others, at first, but they all eventually dispersed to watch the duo dance around the grass. Entranced, not an eye was looking away at the two. They read each other's thoughts, and their next moves, and it seemed they had practiced this for ages. Truth is, they had not and were improvising entirely. 

The intense gaze they held would be held with a knife. Nobody has ever seen Peter dance like this with anybody. Will himself had never been so enamored by a simple routine. Their dance seemed simple, a ballroom, perhaps with waltz elements. To everyone, it felt like a conversation. A chase. A written letter between two lovers being passed back and forth… back and forth… back and forth.

They swayed and span until all it seemed like was just the two of them. Nobody could tear them away, and like the folktale, Will didn’t want to stop.

And yet, they did. In a soft and close gesture, they did. They stopped and simply gazed at each other, their faces inches apart. They waited and waited and suddenly, cheers echoed around them. Cheers that grew louder until they snapped them around each other's gazes.

Will thought he was lost before, but he had never felt so lost like this. 

🟈🟈🟈

Will stared out the rain-padded window. Finally, rain poured down the pane and sunk into the soil. Sinking and sinking fast. His body stood standing, hands in his pockets, with his shirt half open. He wondered how the boys were feeling. He was terrified. Terrified that that demon was picking them off one by one for each night they didn’t come back to save them. His heart pounded and ached for every raindrop that spat at the window.

Then, the door to their dorm opened, and it was Peter. Will could see his reflection behind him in the glass. He tore off his coat jacket and hung it on the frame of the bathroom door. Then, gently, they crossed the room to Will. 

As the brunette stared blankly with his back turned, Peter reached over and pressed his forehead onto his back with one hand reaching for Will’s. They intertwined quickly and Will let out a shaking breath. One they both shared. 

They were both so scared. It didn’t matter how many times they smiled; they were scared. Every second felt like wasted time. A moment they could be working, attacking, or saving them. 

“I know, Will,” Peter said, his voice half-muffled in the fabric of Will’s shirt.

Then, Will turned to face him, never letting go of his hand. Pan reached up and cupped his cheek, a comfort he allowed Will to have. As if Will was the only one who needed comfort. In a repeated notion, Will dragged his fingers into Peter’s hair and gently kissed the boy’s forehead.

Peter’s breath turned ragged, and their noses collided, faces ever so close, so close. Will allow him this moment, this hour, this night. 

“I’m terrified too,” Peter whispered in the same breath as Will. His face sunk into the crook of Will’s neck. With gentle brushes, Will tangled his fingers into the golden hair. His hot breath leeched itself onto Will’s pink flesh until it morphed into quiet sobs. His hold tightened, and Peter tried to compose himself against the strength of Will.

It all lasted too long, and their feet ached from the dancing and walking. Aching in exhaustion, in unagreeable nights, and buzzing champagne. Will left his bed abandoned and rested himself between the pillows of Peter’s. The blonde breathed slowly against the chest of the brunette, Will softly dragging his thumb over the skin of Pan’s arm.

All until he snored softly against him. Until all Will could feel was the same beat of heart Will had against his chest. Until the smooth breath soothed the tenses of muscle and dragged his eyelids to his cheeks. 

Here, in this moment nobody could take. The rain would still pad the pane softly, the dust would still fall, the ocean would still crash, and Will would hold Pan through it all.

Chapter Text

Word leaks through the forest like poisonous air. It sinks into the tongue of every fairy and eventually trails back into the ear of Mother Superior. Guards stomp toward the recently taken room held now by the two boys. Fairies always avoided this neighborhood since the two boys moved in temporarily. Truth be told, the thought crossed her mind to cast them back to their camp, but there was no guarantee they would both be safe there. They were safe here, with her. Like her name, she would always protect the children of Neverland. 

Three knocks echoed on the wooden door and rustling ensued. Then the door winded open to find a half-awake William Rivers. His wavy brown hair sat over his eyes as he squinted in the sunlight of the island. Rustling continued behind him, undoubtedly Pan. 

“Mother Su-” Will stuttered and looked behind him. “Pan! It’s Mother Superior.”

An exclamation replied and, in an instant, Pan opened the door wider, standing beside Will. 

“What is it?” He pressed, a little irritated she had interrupted their mildly peaceful morning of waking up together. Like Will, Pan’s hair was undone, but masterly concealed behind his sharp and awake eyes.

“The mermaid attacks.” Was all Mother had to say. 

Pan’s eyes widened and cast to his side, at Will. The taller took the hint and stepped away from the door and into the bathroom. 

“Did they-” Pan quickly spoke, careful not to let Will hear too much. Alas, he would tell him every detail later. 

“It was successful to intimidate them…” She sighed. “-but they captured one mermaid.”

Pan’s eyes shut and a silent huff of frustration ensued through his throat. “Alright.” 

There is a pause, a moment of clear understanding of what is to come next. “Our troops are ready to attack, as long as everyone else is ready.” The blue fairy countered.

Pan shook his head. “Let me talk to Will about this-”

Quickly enough, a smile rose on the mother’s face. It quickly devolved into a single chuckle. 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s so funny?”

She smiled tightly and gestured inside the home. “The Peter Pan I once knew didn’t consult one of his lost boys before ordering an attack on the pirates.”

“I am not the boy I once was,” Pan replies. “And William is not just some lost boy.”

Mother nodded. “He’s important then? Like Felix?”

Pan tried to close the door tighter like every inch could conceal Will’s ears from their conversation. He did not doubt that cunning boy was listening in. “It’s different.”

“Well, whatever it is, I like it.” The fairy smiled, her chest rising in pride. “Maybe if this works out, we can renegotiate with the terms of the treaty, and end this bad blood between us. If all goes well.”

Pan’s chest suddenly felt very heavy, his eyes widened in the sudden negotiation. “That would be ideal.”

Once Mother's superior bid herself goodbye and the door closed behind her, Will was quick to exit the bathroom in a manic frenzy. He crossed the room quickly, his hair brushed and his eyes wild in rage. 

“We are running out of time.” He demanded, beginning to rummage around in a drawer, looking for something. Anything. 

“We are doing everything we can, Will.” Pan reminded. 

Suddenly, Will slammed the drawer shut. His voice quickly roared in fury. “You don’t think I know that?!” He shouted. “We don’t know what this woman is capable of! And if she could fight against the mermaids- if she could have gotten information out of them- She could be hurting them! Every second we spend dancing and drinking with these fairies is another we could be spending fighting!”

“You're not the only one in fear, William!” Peter shouted back. “It’s not like you could do anything! What, with your teleporting and drinking problem! What are you gonna do huh? Seduce them?!”

Will, breath getting caught in his throat at rapid rates, screamed back, “I don’t know!”

It silenced the room into Will’s silent tears and Pan’s rugged breaths. Pan’s green eyes found the space between them. His arms cross over his chest. “The best we can do is-” Will rolled his eyes exasperatedly and turned away. “Is stay calm!”

“How can you act like your world isn’t crashing down around you?!” Will stomped away toward the window and left Pan in deafening silence. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you ever cared in the first place.”

Then quickly came the violent slam of the door. Pan left the room shaking and Will alone with his furious thoughts. His hands raise up to palm the fogged window and wash away the mist. 

🟈🟈🟈

The rain won’t stop, and I haven’t seen Peter all day. The room aches around me like some suffocating womb and I can’t help but replaying every word I’ve said to him in their entirety. As if they would be the last words, I would ever say to him. I’m terrified, and he should be too. 

I wouldn’t mind waking up with him for a few more nights like we did this morning. I’ve never slept better beside someone. Knowing that Peter Pan, with all his godly power, thought himself safe enough in the arms of me to fall asleep. There was immense comfort in that. Not to mention his body was perfectly pressed against me in ways that could make a prostitute blush. I know I was. The entire night perhaps.

And now with this distance between us, I wished I would've just shut up. But I couldn’t. I had to drive him away. Again. Perhaps he would find an entirely different place to stay tonight. In the sheets of someone else. 

Fuck that. 

Will’s eyes grew heavier as his arm lay against the pillowcase. The moonlight threatened the windowpane as the orange sun blinded the room into a dreamy tangerine. Then came the rustle of the doorknob. He tossed his journal to the side quickly and situated himself to be comfortable. He knew it was him. It would be nobody else. And like some flustered schoolboy, he pretended like his heart wasn’t racing. And when his green eyes caught the orange light, it took everything in his damaged body not to leap across the bed and into his arms. Begging him not to go again. 

I’m sorry, he would say. Over and over again until it was a muffled cry. 

“I’m sorry,” Pan said lowly, looking away from Will. “I didn’t realize you were in here- I can leave,”

“No!” Will exclaimed, raising himself. The brunette's heart lunged into his throat. He cleared it away and pretended to get comfortable in bed. “We’re stressed. We were bound to rip at each other's throat.” Will shrugged, letting his gaze stand on Pan’s particularly rippable throat. The kind you would leech your teeth onto. 

Pan was quiet for a moment, looking out blankly through the window. Then, they shift hesitantly to the journal beside Will's bed. “I want to talk about our plan of attack. I went over it with Mother Superior. The mermaids declared their war on the revenge, and now it’s our turn.”

“And when is that?” 

“Tomorrow.”

There was that deafening silence again. 

“What happens after that?” Will breathed, careful not to speak too quietly or too loudly. 

Pan crossed the room and shrugged, stepping closer to him. “I reckon we enhance our training, and maybe open trade with the pixies-”

Will planted his feet on the hardwood, still sitting over the duvet. “To us, Pan.”

His green eyes faltered briefly, wide with sudden embarrassment. When Will’s question was met with no answer, he repeated: “What happens after we-” He huffed in sudden frustration. “What happens with us?”

“I believe we’ve spoken about this.” Pan’s voice was low, ready to swarm back over to the door and leave. 

“Not really,” Will said. 

Pan’s boots press into the wooden floor, closer to Will until their hands intertwine. Will’s eyes never left Pan’s, who looked shyly away at the space between them. He waited and waited for him to say something, to clear the storm buzzing in his head. Pan’s eyebrows furrowed. His hands gripped Will’s tighter.

“I’ve never…” Peter confessed, his eyes meeting Will’s. “You don’t want this. I’m bad at this. I’ve never been this far. This deep.”

Will couldn’t help but let his eyes falter to Peter’s lips. He tried to hide it by looking away, tears threatening his eyes. Was this his cruel way of telling him he didn’t want him? Will’s head suddenly spun with ferocious overthought. He ripped his hands away from Pan. He didn’t want his hands. He didn’t want his eyes. His voice. His questions. How foolish of him to believe otherwise. 

“I understand.” Will trembled. He was always trembling around him. 

Peter fought him on this, reaching back from his hands. A grave mistake on his part, Will rising to his feet and trying to push past him. 

“Will-” Peter breathed. “Stop it.”

Peter reached for his wrist, which was quickly ripped away. He reached for his shirt. Will shoved him back with a push. He reached again, but Will pulled himself away. 

“Stop pushing me away!” Pan's voice suddenly raised.

“Stop reaching for me!” Will shouted back, trying to fight Pan’s repetitive hands. “Don’t- just- Peter, stop!”

With all the strength he had, Pan gripped Will’s hair and yanked him toward him in a savage and searing kiss. Suddenly, the world melted, and Will did with it. His grip on the back of Will’s neck was relentless and almost painful. The world quieted and all that was heard was the sound of their breathing. 

Will quickly stumbled back, losing his balance, and taking Peter with him on the bed. Pan never let go. It was as if he let go, the world would burn. Burn hotter than his rapacious hands, unable to choose between Will’s shoulder, neck, waist, and chest. 

Will was keen to believe they understood one another. Products of unknown circumstances, subject to lives they weren’t entirely privy about. Diametrically opposed in so many ways while being painfully similar. It was nice to be close to him without the world crumbling around him. Here, held against Peter of his own volition, his company on his terms, he felt free.

Freedom, safety, isn’t that what he wanted? What he craved?

It all blurred and burned as Pan’s tongue met Will’s. And still, it wasn’t enough. There was one more thing he wanted, and he felt so close to having it. Desperation clung to his ribs, aching to get out of this vague relationship they had.

His body snapped around like lightning, pinning Pan’s hands above his head inexorably. Pan didn’t want to stop him though. He let himself ache and immerse himself between the mattress and Will’s searing body. The brunette's lips and teeth grazed down his chin and around his jaw.

A dizzying shock ran through Will as a gasp echoed through the room. Pan’s voice reverberated off the walls and the taller compelled his neck to bruise. His voice broke and then came to a complete stop. 

Pan froze. He wasn’t so much frozen but trapped in a constant state of trembling. Like his body was bubbling up a scream. Will’s face rose and quickly rested his forehead over Pan’s. Then his breathing came back.

Will didn’t understand a lot, but he did understand body language. 

“I’m scared,” Pan confessed in a shared breath. “I don’t want things to change.”

“It’s okay.” Will assured, kissing his temple and trailing them around his face. Pan was breathless. “It’s us. We’ll figure something out.”

Then, their lips connected one last time. It wasn’t greedy or hasty. It was traced with sweet adoration and shared vibration.

 “I ruined it,” Pan whispered when their lips parted.

“Shhh,” Will cooed, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I will never force you into something you don’t want to do.”

“What if it takes too long?”

Their eyes met, and then that was all that mattered. That they were together. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Chapter Text

Water crashes against the revenge as the sun peaks out from storm clouds. The rain has ceased and the heat has returned to dry the throats and noses of the pirates around. Raindrops sink off lush green leaves and fall onto the hot sand, disintegrating instantly. Felix is awoken by the blazing sun and shouts ensue around him. Sandesh, who is tied next to him, shoves him awake.

A silhouette of Pan floats ominously above the pirates as Hook and Wendy shout at him from above. The shadow doesn’t listen, easing his way lower to look at Wendy in bright white eyes. She glared at him furiously. 

“Last chance,” The shadow warns. “Give them up, Wendy.”

“Or what?!” She shouts. “What will he do?!”

Felix’s stomach drops at the thought of Pan trying to fight them alone. The wind brushes past them and floats their hair over their eyes. 

“They have an army.” The Shadow commands.

Once wild and free, Wendy’s strawberry blonde hair is tied up in a bun with loose strands teasing her chin. Her blue eyes cast shadows over her face as her gaze darkens. 

“I have their army.” She smirks. “Let them try.”

The shadow shakes his head. “They know you aren’t who you say you are.”

Wendy smiles wickedly. “Outstanding.”

🟈🟈🟈

Fairies have lined up a few feet from where the grass meets the sand. All different shapes and colors are hidden under thick golden armor. 20 lines hold spears and swords while the remaining hold bows and arrows. Alas, magic manifested through their hands ended up being a last resort for them. It didn’t stop them from using the wicked black poison for a coater. Dreamshade didn’t hurt the fairies, Will learned.

Will stood tall, chin in the air beside Mother Superior. His once animal skin clothing was replaced with light armor, particularly protecting his heart. A spell was cast over his chest, so no being was able to rip his heart out and possibly hurt him or Peter. A precaution, of course, but it didn’t fail in making Will more scared.

Mother Superior looked stone cold and ready. If Will didn’t look close enough he wouldn’t have seen the reluctance of her gaze. She looked just as scared as him. Will had almost forgotten that she was not putting herself in danger, but also others. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled to her under his breath.

“Thank Peter.” She replied with a sad smile. “If it weren’t for his warning, that being could have done worse. We are protecting Neverland.”

Will nodded softly, starting to look in crowds for him. “Speaking of his wickedness, shouldn’t he be back yet?”

Mother Superior gently took Will’s shoulder.“Mermaids can be stubborn.” 

Will tried to make light of the situation, but in all reality, nothing could soothe the pain in his stomach. “Seems I share that quality with them.”

Finally, as if on cue, chestnut hair peaked out from crowds of battle-ready fairies. They all watched expectantly as the boy king approached Mother Superior. 

“The mermaids are ready for the command, Mother,” Peter spoke. 

His voice was hard, commanding, and full of unbridled rage. He was ready for bloodshed more than anyone else on the island. For a moment it comforted Will to know they both weren’t having second thoughts. His true fear was this ending in the blood of one of them, The thought echoed and muffled the remaining conversation between Peter and Mother.  

“Peter,” Will spoke softly, unheard by the two. 

A fairy comes up to Mother Superior and steals her away from the two boys. Peter’s gaze faltered between William and the Fairy. For a brief moment, Peter steps forward to follow her.

“Peter-” Will tried, reaching out for him.

Finally acknowledging his call, Peter turns to William. His wild, rage-fueled eyes met Will’s wide and tearful eyes. It frightened Will for a moment and he almost thought he should let the thought suffocate in his mind. It was too late, all the emotions came curling out in almost rambling incoherence. 

“What if there isn’t an us after this?” He asked. “What if something happens to me or you and we can’t-”

“Pan.” The blue fairy interrupted, crossing back to him. She reaches for his shoulder but is met with resisting stillness. “We are ready for battle.”

Pan’s wild eyes never left Will’s. His breaths quickly grew rampant. William never dared to look away, afraid for just one second if he did, Peter would take the opportunity to drive his attention elsewhere. No. William needed his attention. He needed him to listen, even if the thought was so extremely last minute. Mother Superior had to repeat herself before Pan truly heard her. His gaze faltered back to the fairy and nodded. 

“Just-” He said, his voice suddenly trembling. “I need, uhm… I need to…” His gaze found Will’s, those wild eyes now fueled by something else entirely. The silence was almost deafening and William furrowed his eyebrows, suddenly frightened that Pan would ignore him. 

“Excuse me,” Pan mumbles as his shoulder meets the Blue Fairy's. He trips slightly, catching himself in time to apologize to her. Shadows quickly overtake him and manifested him away. There was only one place where he could have gone and Mother Superior watched as William jogged to their shared dorm.

🟈🟈🟈

The door to their bedroom swings open and hits the wall parallel to it. The sun is beginning to set and the orange blaze oozes through the sphere window. It’s dim when Will enters, and at first, he doesn’t spot Peter in the darkness. He called for him, and then the orange light hit his skin. 

If Will knew any better, he would take his red face as fury. He had seen him this enraged before and was ready to tune it down. 
 
“Listen, Peter,” Will gently closed to door behind him. “I know it’s last minute, but if just listen to me-”

Peter crossed the room in long strides toward Will. 

“Stop talking.” He orders, gripping Will’s collar with such ferocity and pulling him toward him until their lips mashed together as one. 

Gone was every thought that brewed itself in Will’s mind. Every word he had wanted to say was stripped away. Somewhere between when Pan’s lips met Will’s, and when Will kissed him back was a twinge of pure and undoubted understanding. He died and lived and let himself be completely with Peter in this moment. 

The back of Will’s head hits the door as Pan’s other hand scrambles to hold Will’s waist tightly. It’s angry, but so fucking good. The passion leaked from Pan’s mouth and into Will’s with a series of gasps and bruising kisses. The brunette matched his wildness almost instantly and gripped the back of Pan’s head, pulling him impossibly closer. 

So much closer. 

Pan’s thigh found its way between Will’s and resulted in the brunette gasping louder into Pan’s mouth. He chased the sound and tried to grind harder into him. He had him locked between his thighs as an aching heat throbbed between his legs. It shocked him how fast he had hardened, but Pan’s hips were simply merciless.

“Peter-” Will whined, a hand launching onto Pan’s belt. More. He needed more friction.

“Shut up,” Pan ordered, letting go of his collar and starting to help Will with his belt. 

Will knows he loves to hear his own name. He sinks his finger into Pan’s buckle and swings them around. Pan’s back slams into a separate wall with one of his legs raising for Will’s palm to snake under and wrap around his waist until he is entirely propped up between Will and the wall. 

“Peter,” Will breathes against Pan’s parted lips. His smirk widens when those green eyes falter closed, his teeth gritting as soft breaths leave him. Peter lets himself into the mold that was Will's body. His hips are ruthless as he grinds against him like some pathetic rutting animal in heat. His teeth find the outline of Pan’s jaw when he falls back, eyes fluttering closed even further.

“God, Will-” Pan huffed through gritted his teeth as he pulled on Will’s hair.

So much more.

The same teeth that scraped his throat found its victim around Pan’s ear.  “Still want me to shut up?” Will whispers, his breath hot against Pan’s cheek. 

Pan rips him away and kisses him maliciously. Their breaths hitch repeatedly in a series of pathetic moans. “If I die-” He gasps.  “Mh- I will f-fucking haunt you.”

Will’s hands compromise by leaching under Pan’s shirt and cupping his scorching hip muscle. 

“You promise?” Will heaves, dazed and high from the sounds he leaves Pan with.

The blonde can barely register thoughts in his head as the bubbling heat peaks through. A kettle teasing a whistle. “I swear it.” Pan’s hips hinge repeatedly as his back arches. Like his body was made to fit with Will’s. “I’ll bring down that whole damn crew…” Will’s lips find Pan’s neck again. “...to be with you.”

“Peter…” Will gasps. 

His knees trembled and ached to rest as he held the blonde against the wall. He was no stranger to thigh riding. Hell, he actually enjoyed it when it was done right. But this? With Pan’s legs clutching Will wildly and his sex meeting Will’s through clothing cloth and his pathetic noises and his ruthless grip on his hair-

The moan that escapes Pan’s lips is music to his ears. It throbs his whole being as he seeks to chase it. Again, he cries out, his grip on Will’s hair shifting to hold onto his shoulders-

“Peter, I-”

“Me too-” Pan’s forehead finds Wills and repeats the same mantra to him. “I- Fuck! I’m so-”

He didn’t need to. He had him. 

Pan’s legs tense suddenly and his head rolls back with an elongated and broken cry, “Fuuuck!” Will was quick to match him. His legs shook rapidly as he laid his forehead against Pan’s shoulder and rutted against him until they were nothing but breath. Pure, ragged breath. The same heart beating at the same quick tempo. 

They kissed, and it was clear of lust and restored to pure, ineffable understanding. Then they laughed. Kissed again and then laughed. Will gently put him down and snaked the hand once holding up Pan’s leg around his neck and feverishly kissed him again. Pan’s knees gave out in trembling pleasure as he held onto Will’s shoulder for balance.

“I got you.” Will assured him. 

Peter’s lips caught Will’s as he chases him down to the floor. 

🟈🟈🟈

Peter’s forest green eyes harden, his jaw clenched tight as he gazes out from the beach at the pirate ship. Will watches him with an army of fairies behind him. Slowly, his pinky finger intertwined with Pan, a direct shadow of what had just transpired 20 minutes ago. Those green eyes falter and meet that ocean of Will’s.

For a moment, it’s just them. That was the first time he truly understood them. What they were. They weren’t a traditional relationship with the constant push and pull, they weren’t a dance between courted strangers. There was too much understanding and parallel between them. The shape of Will’s heart echoed the mold of Pan’s. The curve of Pan’s body had proved to fit just right against Will’s. His eyes softened when they looked at Will. And then he understood what they were.

Pan had always been compared to the island, but he never truly thought how right those people were. Peter, the island, towering, terrifying, lush, bright, mysterious, and wondrous can either strike terror or beauty into that of which it conceals.

Will, the vast ocean holding him tightly, a great deep force holding so much and molding itself against the sand and rock of the island. Its foam crashes against him and the island replies with gravity, pulling it back as the tides shift. But the ocean always comes back to the island. Without it, the ocean is simply empty, dull, and without the life that the island created. 

It’s akin to their eyes, and Will knows Peter felt it too. His hand reaches for Will’s as the ocean crashes against the sand. Will holds it and nods. The wind picks up as leaves brush past them and an order roars behind them. 

Like a bull colliding open its cage, the war began.

Chapter Text

Only one thing is constant about me,

The darkness hidden under sleeves they can’t see.

I try to be guided by logical light, but you I followed blind.

You were a beacon of white in my clouded mind.

I lured myself over cliffs, so, my shiny, shattered pieces could be gifts.

And every time I shattered, I just got sharper.

And every time I died, it just got darker.

For I am a cold, black and empty atmosphere,

And even false stars over time disappear.

Fixed my heart to be resistant, so, my meaningless life could be consistent

Will a tree grow from where I gave my gifts to the ground?

Becoming something, a boy-king can rest on when found?

To be what a soldier hangs from, swinging without sound?

To be carved out for brothers and buried 6 feet underground?

Until

Only one thing is constant about me:

The darkness given to children who found a life in a tree.

- D.E.

The sun teased the sky with its golden hue. An east wind blew over their faces. The waves of the sea surrounding Neverland fought with The Revenge. A call was shouted, and pirates began to shoot into the sea. Sirens latched themselves on the damp planks of the pirate ship and tore at the frame. The vessel swayed as Pirates lost their balance and tumbled into the other side of the ship. Some fell overboard, their flesh being torn at by the ruthless claws of the mermaids.

Chaos ensues around the deck. Felix watches one Pirate load his gun, but before he can aim it at the water, he glares up at the sky.

Hundreds of fairies swarm the air like a hive of bees. They crowd the deck and begin to overpower the pirates in a matter of a few minutes. Felix couldn’t help but smile when he saw Will's war-painted face, grinning in victory as he appeared on deck.

Wendy stands on the highest floor, looking over into the chaos. Without hesitation, her hands point up into the sky as a barrier of black smoke casts over the sky like a blanket. As fairies encounter it, they are sent flying back, screaming in agony and pain.

Mother Superior follows suit, quickly pointing her wand to dismantle it, when suddenly a strike of dark lightning soars to his wand and rips through her frame. She is sent far, but the attack weakens her beyond measure.

On deck, Wendy smiles wickedly at her. However, it’s short-lived by the sound of boots slamming against the boarded floor behind her.

She whips around, hands up in defense. Peter Pan stands, arms to his sides as he holds her down with a glare so violent, she almost was frightened.

She returns it with a grin, her eyes glossing over into a deeper, richer black.

What surprised her wasn’t Pan’s ruthlessness or his own wicked power, but his audacity.

He mimicked her, only as a shadow cast over his face, his eyes glowed as golden as the sun setting beyond them.

On the other side of the ship, Will rips at the rope to free the boys from the large mast. A gunshot fires, and Will checks himself for any pain. Not shot. He pivots around to spot Hook aiming a gun directly at him. But before he could fire again, Will appears to his side, and in a move so quick, he disarms the captain with the gun dropping the Deck.

Blake watched as Hook, almost as quick, swung his hook across Will’s side, tearing through his flesh. The gash is deep, but not deep enough to be fatal as Will cries out in pain. However, he is fast to jump back, drawing his sword with one hand, and holding his side with the other.

“See?” Will says with a ragged breath, biting back a grin. “Now it’s a fair fight.”

With a flick of Pan’s wrist, a path of gold light wrapped around Wendy’s outstretched wrist and sent her colliding to the floor.

“You forget where you are.” Peter reminds her with another surge of force pinning her to the railing. “But I suppose to forget, you would have to know in the first place.”

Wendy grinned at him suddenly and blinked out of sight, only to reappear on Pan’s other side. A split second passed, and Pan was sent back by a force of black smoke. His feet kept him steady, bracing himself and ripping the smoke away.

Wendy watched as he suddenly cried out, holding his side and losing his balance briefly. The smoke manifested and shoved him against the railing. She approached him, eyeing his chest with manic desire. Before Peter could think to teleport away, a dagger flies from the ocean waves and plunges itself into Wendy’s right shoulder.

Then, she falters back, screaming in agony. The barrier falters for a moment until the knife is torn out of her flesh and cast to the side. Not a great sign, Peter noted as he braced himself for a tougher fight.

Their swords clash twice before Will has the mind to kick Hook in the stomach. Will fought dirty, just like how the Lost Boys taught him. Hook fought like a swordman with technique, wit, and moves that could be predicted but not so easily prevented. When the swords clashed again, Hook twisted it away watched as Will lost his balance, and stumbled back.

Screw this, Will thought and lunged for him. Successfully dodging, Hook pins him to the mast and draws his hook against his neck.

“I don’t know why you try.” He spat at Will.

Will knew why. His reason was currently getting his ass handed to him by some sorceress disguised as a preteen girl. When he saw Peter holding his side, a thought crossed his mind. As soon as it entered, Pan seemed to know it just as well. Their eyes met across the ship. Pan glanced up at the barrier and then to Wendy.

As quick as one of Hook’s bullets, Pan raises a hand in their direction. Hook coughed and seemed to choke on his own breath and as his grip faltered, Will guided the sword away and hooked him across the face so hard the sound echoed across the ship. And when Captain Hook falls to the ground, Will doesn’t waste a second to grab his gun and teleport away.

When Peter’s back collided with the wheel, Wendy was quick to manifest ropes to tie themselves around his wrists and ankles. The material burned against Peter’s skin and in the next moment, Wendy raised her hand to take Peter’s breath. Keep him in place and stop him from squirming.

His chest suddenly ached with pain when her direction faltered to it. It was as if he knew it was what she wanted. She didn’t want his Lost Boys. She wanted that heart. But before she could reach out for it, the butt of a pistol knocks the back of her head, and she falls onto the floor. The barrier falters enough for more fairies to land on the deck. The ropes free Peter as he watches Will cock the gun and aim it at her head.

In any other instance, it would be amusing to see Will carry something as natural as a gun. He held it steady, firm, and if Will was as good as he was with bullets as he was with arrows, he had deadly aim. Maybe he would let him keep it after all of this was over.

“It’s over,” Will says, watching her struggle to rise to her feet. But when she turns around, it isn’t Wendy. It’s a girl, not much older than Wendy. A girl with darker, straighter hair and deep brown eyes. Her face froze Will. It’s his sister, Addie, and her face is covered in bruises and cuts.

It’s enough for her to lunge forward in a split second and rip the heart from his chest.

“NO!” Peter screams, watching next as an arrow flies through the air toward Wendy.

She spins gracefully around and catches it with her other hand, inches from her chest. Her laugh echoes out loud, a cackling witch. Peter regretfully takes his eyes off her, watching Blake lower his bow with a small smile on his face.

“Good thing I didn’t coat the tip.” He said.

And Wendy freezes, a vibrant purple hue acting as an aura around her. It was Peter’s turn to smile. Will’s gasping and groaning snapped him back to reality. She still held his partner’s heart. But before Peter could rip the ruby red heart from her grasp, The Blue Fairy flies between them and casts her wand toward her.

Black smoke encompasses the woman like a curtain. And like a curtain, it draws back, it falls to the floor until Wendy’s ace was no longer a mask she wore.

A face Peter knew more was worn behind it. A face he had forgotten to recall in all his years in Neverland. Jet-brown hair with fierce dark eyes that glared at Mother Superior. The Black Fairy.

Peter falters back without thinking, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in disbelief. She doesn’t take her gaze off of The Blue Fairy, but once she does, Peter is the first to catch it.

And she laughs.

“You.” Peter snarls.

Pan was almost envious of the grin she held. “Miss me?”

“I should have known.” Pan scoffs in disbelief which turns into impressed laughter. “You just can’t help yourself, can you Fiona?”

“Neither can you, it seems.” She replied. “Imagine my shock when I was told that the most powerful heart in the realms was sitting next to you.”

“It’s over.” The Blue Fairy demands. “You’re lucky I still grant you mercy after the first banishment.”

“Mercy!?” She barks.  “Come on, Malcolm. You can’t seriously want to share this power with some boy.”

Peter shakes his head. “You know nothing.”

“You are banished from Neverland, Fiona.” Mother Superior ordered, holding out her wand.

Fiona’s eyes went wild, desperate, and clung to any reality she could. In this case, it was Peter.

“We could be the family you wanted.” She pleaded.

Will finally stumbles to his feet, leaning heavily on the ship railing. “Peter, what is she talking about?” He said.

“Is that what they’re calling you?” She asks Pan without sparing Will a glance. “Peter?”

When Peter doesn’t reply and crosses over to her, she speaks rapidly.

“You haven’t seen him, Malcolm.” She spoke. “The power he holds now. You would almost be proud of him.”

But his expression is pitiful, and for a moment, Fiona thinks he will reply. But he doesn’t. He reaches out and rips Will’s heart from her grasp.

“I wonder how long it will take this time for him to disappoint you.” Fiona eyes Mother Superior, ignoring the pain she felt watching Pan gently press Will’s heart back into his chest.  “Maybe just as long as it took for him to abandon his son.”

Will doesn’t need to speak for his shock to show. The look he gives Peter is so clouded it’s hard to decipher to Fiona. But Peter seemed to provide him with an unspoken answer as he pivoted to face Fiona.

Gone was the softness in his gaze, replaced with icy hatred. “Leave my island,” he said, inches from her face. “And leave him alone.”

“Him?” She breathes, glancing at Will for the first time. “Or Rumple?”

As quickly as she could, Mother Superior put a hand on Pan’s shoulder, both to reel him in and to hold him back from possibly killing Fiona. “She’s stalling for time, Peter. We have to send her away.”

“I don’t know why you try.”

Will knew at that moment what Pan’s reason was. The reason he was in Neverland. She was his reason. He stumbled forward despite the heavy ache in his chest. “Mother Superior is right. We have to-“

“Does that mortal speak for you, Malcolm?” Fiona spoke over Will.

Not even Mother Superior with all her great power, of Will with all his conviction could stop Peter from saying these words next. His voice was dark and low, a rasp that broke and trembled. Will felt stupid to think that Pan’s wounds went no deeper than Wendy Darling. They extended to this wicked woman.

“Don’t recite my regrets to me, Fiona, when we both recall you choosing power over Rumple. So, I recommend you watch your tongue.” Peter snarls. “Or I’ll tear it from your throat.”

But he makes no move to hurt her. He turns completely away and descends down the stairs to the main deck, Will acting as his shadow and following close behind.

“You will never be enough.” She says to Will before he can make a single step. He freezes with his back to her. “Your heart will never be enough. Why do you think he left in the first place?”

Will splits into two entirely different people at that moment. One part, the one he had kept within since arriving, told him she was right. The other wanted to shoot her between the eyes for asking something so stupid.

He would be lying if he told anyone he didn’t think about why Peter had created this island, why these boys were here, why he was here with him. Why did he, out of all people on earth get cursed with such power in his heart? But then, he thinks, better me than some wicked woman like The Black Fairy.

“He will tell me.” He says over his shoulder.

“He will lie to you. It’s all he does.” She promises.

And Will walks down the deck toward Pan, who is surveying all his Lost Boys. Sandesh, Jared, Jah’sir, Blake, and Felix.

Devin, he wishes. Our boys, he selfishly thinks.

🟈🟈🟈

And there they stand, Peter and Will with their boys behind them on the beach as they watch that ship, with the help of the fairies, fly into the golden clouds. The sun sets over the horizon with its final breath of light as cold navy darkness threatens the world around them. Will watches the last thread of hope for leaving the island snap and tear apart the further the ship climbs. He still had so many questions about Fiona, and yet he knew they would be answered. Over time, as that was all they had now.

Will thought about his sister’s face plastered on Fiona, her eyes swelling with tears and her neck covered in bruises. He blinked it away. She was safe. His sisters were safe. His brothers were safe. Their family was fine or would be. Would Pan be angry with him if he asked to see them once more through the hourglass?

How could she have known about his sisters? Was she guessing? She knew exactly who Will was but pretended otherwise. She was after their heart. Fear and dread coursed through him. What stopped anyone else from finding them and threatening their island? They would not be safe forever, and despite his faith in Peter, he knew this treaty with Pixie Hollow would not last.

“Back to camp.” Peter orders suddenly. “All of you.” His voice snapped Will back into his reality.

Will doesn’t have to turn to know they dispersed into the forest. He can hear their animal calls and the echoing laughter of victory. He doesn’t take his eyes off the ship, slowly fading through the clouds.

“We promised honesty, Pan.” He said once he was sure they were alone.

Pan stepped beside him. “We also got interrupted by our boys being kidnapped. Again.”

“Yes.” He agreed. “By Fiona.”

“Don’t do that,” Peter said quickly.

“Do what?”

“I had no reason to bring her into our life.”

“Right,” Will couldn’t help the venom in his tone. “Because you left her.”

Pan scoffs, but Will doesn’t stop.

“And your son as I recall,” Will said.

“It’s a complicated and long story.”

After a long beat of silence, Will glances at Pan. “But you’ll be honest?”

“Yes.” He replied.

Will searches his eyes for any ounce of manipulation. Once he was certain there was nothing but devotion in his eyes, he nodded and looked back onto the ship in the sky. “That’s all I need.”

But Peter doesn’t look away from Will.

“I’ve hurt people, Will. You know that.”

“I do.” Will doesn’t meet his eyes.

“So, don’t make me into a hero.”

“Why not?” He turns to Pan.

“Because I’ll never be one. I will always be the villain.”

“You saved me.” Will reminded. “You saved them. You saved Neverland.”

“Doesn’t make me a good person if it was for my own selfish reason.”

Will couldn’t help himself, his ice-blue eyes darker in the moonlight. “And what reason was that?”

And Peter freezes. And suddenly the horizon was a far more appealing subject to cast his gaze upon.  

“To escape.” He confesses. “To escape from… from everything I had done. Everything I was left with.”

“Don’t let her leave!” Rob demands “Sara-”

“He’s lying. I didn’t do anything! You gambled all our money away!” Mom accused back.

“I suppose we both got dealt shit cards.” Will joined him in admiring the now fully set sun. Only a deep blue almost as deep as the ocean, cast over the sky. He counted the stars above them, or at least the ones that showed themselves at this time of night. “And…. If you don’t like the cards…” he continued.

Pan breathes out a laugh. “… change the game.”

Once their eyes meet it's an echo of the moment they shared before the battle began. The thought enters and carries itself to Pan, who breathes out another laugh. Which makes Will smile wider. Which made Peter laugh out loud, which made Will join him. They laughed with aching smiles and pure relief that they both survived.

“Oh my god…” Will says through fits of laughter. "Who is Malcolm?!"

 Pan, finally catching his breath, shakes his head with a careless smile. "I'll tell you later."

“I’m fucking freezing,” Will confessed, which only made Pan laugh harder. “Aren’t you?!”

Peter couldn’t answer, only settling a hand onto Will’s shoulder, which dragged to his bicep to his forearm until Will guided him back into the forest. Back to their boys.

Chapter Text

Silence was always strange to Will. In fact, in most cases he hated it. He lived a loud and unpredictable life and still did while staying on the island. Inside the loud house on the mainland, he found refuge in bathrooms. He would lay on the cold tile and rest his cheek on the tub. Sometimes he was hurling over the toilet or lying fully clothed in an empty tub, nursing a cigarette. On darker days, he purposely pressed the knife's edge of his jaw while shaving, compelling his skin to bleed. It wasn’t the burn in his lunges when taking a hit of a joint, but it was a satisfactory one that would do.

Now, he sat resting one hand on his knee and the other white-knuckling the side counter as Peter lunged before him. He was focused on stitching the hook wound shut and had to tell Will at least 5 times to stop flinching away. Eventually, Will’s body accommodated the sting and his mind drifted back to those moments when he compelled his own skin to burn.

Pan must have noticed his quiet nature and briefly glanced up at him. Will’s eyes were landed somewhere else. Somewhere dark and untraceable. He looked at nothing. He looked at everything. He was all seeing, and he couldn’t see anything.

With Pan’s pause, Will gazed back down at him with furrowed brows.

“What?” He asked, louder than he intended.

Pan didn’t reply, a suspicious look was cast on Will before he resumed stitching up his stomach.

Will wasn’t bulky like Jared with large muscle or skinny like Jah’sir. His body was lean and accommodated Pan’s stern grip. Soft contours of muscle tensed on his naval when the pin encountered it, but Will sturdied himself against Pan’s grip. A held breath here, a bitten lip there, eventually, Will went still again. Pan finished his work and glanced back up at Will.

He was gone again, somewhere far away.

“Will,” Pan said.

Those ice-blue eyes quickly landed on Peter, widened and aware. He knew where he went, and he knew Pan did too.

“Yeah?” He asked, pretending to not feel Pan’s deducting gaze.

Pan paused, unsure to bring the topic up. They stayed like that for a beat. Pan needed to make sure Will was with him. Not back there. Not back in those other bathrooms.

“Where’d you go?” Pan replied, his voice lower and softer.

Will’s chin jutted up, his eyes landing on the pin that was dropped on the counter. He rose from the seat and quickly walked past Pan.

“I need a smoke.” He declared.

“Will,” Pan said, more sternly.

“What?!” Will whirled around, his eyes still wide and alert.

Pan’s eyes were unwilling and relentless. He waited for a beat as Will’s face quickly retracted. “Mother Superior is expecting us at Pixie Hollow.” He decided after Will fixed his face.  “Can you wait?”

Will huffed in frustration, closing his eyes. Then, he went quiet. Very quiet. And he wouldn’t open his eyes.

“Will,” Pan called out again.

“Yes,” He replied quickly, eyes back open. “Right. Mother Superior. Let me get-” His eyes wandered around the room. “Where is-”

Pan appeared in front of him, closer than needed. He held out a shirt for him. Will jumped back for a moment but reached out of the shirt.

Pan pulled it back before Will could grab it. “Will.”

He tensed. “Yes?”

“What do you need?”

“I need…” Will sighed, looking down at the floor. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Pan handed him his shirt and didn’t stick around to watch him put it on. The door to their room peeled open as he waited for Will at the frame. They had other wounds to tend to, those of which didn’t appear on their bodies. The stress of the battle and the relief of the victory clearly to a toll. Will just relied too heavily on substances to relieve himself of the burden. Pan’s way of coping was control.

Will followed him down the hall until they entered a larger room within the trunk of the tree. Mother Superior, accompanied by the Lost Boys, stood in the center of the room. Her kind eyes found Peter within moments of them entering and she greeted them both with a bright smile and small bow.

“Peter Pan, will you and your Lost Boys be accompanying us for the celebration?”

Pan raised an eyebrow. “And what, I have to ask, are we celebrating?”

“The victory of restoring peace to Neverland.” Blake suddenly voiced, raising a small cup Pan deduced was filled with some alcoholic beverage.

Before Will could whisper to Pan not to decline the offer on his behalf, Peter raised a sheepish hand.

“Our boys are tired and are surely missing our camp. You understand.” Peter said.

Mother Superior assessed both boys for a beat before smiling politely. Before she passed Will, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I witnessed the power you held on that ship, Will.” She said with a smile. “New power can be difficult to manage. Know that you have somebody in your corner if you need help.”

Will’s shoulders relaxed out of the tension he forgot they were in. He smiled. “Thank you.”

The Blue Fairy glanced at Peter, who was approaching the lost boys. “Take care of him.” She whispered.

Something told Will that Peter wouldn’t let anyone else see just how tired he truly was, most likely more than anyone else. He was grateful he could help him with the great pressure on his shoulders. He let himself return with an exhausted half-smile and watched her exit the room.

When Will looked back to Peter, he watched him speak to all the lost boys, who lounged around the small fireplace. Sandesh laid on his stomach over a rug, looking up at Peter. Jah’sir draped himself over a large two-seating couch cushion. He made it look like a loveseat with how tall he was. Jared sat beside Blake on the floor nursing a small bottle of rum they no doubt lifted from the ship. Felix swiped it away and took a long sip.

Blake must have said something because Sandesh began laughing with every breath of air he took. Proving contagious, Blake joined him and locked eyes with Will.

It felt good to see them smile. To see them. It was only a few days of their absence, but every hour spent without them felt like an eternity of pain. Then it hit him.

He went after them the same way he did for his sisters. These boys were not only their army and their family, but each relationship molded into an unbreakable brotherhood. Why would Will spend the rest of his seemingly eternal life on an island without his brothers? Without his family? There were times when he yearned for mornings and nights alone with Peter. But the times he longed for banter for Sandesh, a wrestling match with Jah’sir or Jared, a training session with Blake, a conversation with Felix.

This is what he fought for, and this is what he won back.

The fire roared louder than any light Will could remember. The boys drank and hollered with their lively voices as if to remind the creatures that lurked around the forest that they were alive. Smoke filled the air drifting from the roll they passed from boy to boy. Will took his generous rips from the blunt before he passed it to Peter. Peter, who famously didn’t party as hard as the other boys, took one longer and kept dark eye contact with Will the whole time.

He blamed the rum for the surging heat in the pit of his stomach. Who was he kidding? He let Peter have his victories, Will knew he had his own.

Peter passed the blunt to Felix, who sat beside him. When Felix was drunk, Will quickly learned in his nights spent on the island, he was quiet, impressionable, and prone to giggling. Right now, beside Peter Pan, who arguably was his best friend, he was cracking jokes, tossing food playfully at Jared, smiling wide, and laughing loud at whatever Peter had just said.

Will couldn’t hear them over the laughter and hollering from the others. Peter leaned in and replied with struggling laughter. Felix matched him and reached for his shoulder, his cackle echoing in the trees. Will’s cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

Everything was fuzzy. Everything was warm. The air bit at his skin, no doubt the colder months rolling in. The fire blazed with heat and shined on Peter’s unnaturally enticing face.  His stomach rolled and tossed in a battle for nausea and excitement and rising adrenaline and heat and-

Blake sat beside him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “If you stare any harder at them, you’re gonna bore a hole into their skulls!”

Will glanced away but caught Peter’s eyes before he did. He must have heard Blake. A blush rose quickly to his face.

“Shut up!” Will replied playfully. “How you feeling?”

Blake sighed, the thrill of the evening dying down on his face. “Alive. Scared. Indestructible. Arrogant. Terrified.”

“Didn’t take you for a poet.”

“Imperturbable.”

“Spell that for me?”

“I-M-“

Will shoved him with a smile, quickly getting up and joining him beside Sandesh.

“Sandesh spell Imperturbable,” Will commanded when Sandesh handed him the bottle of rum.

“Impertable?”

“Importer-“ Blake slurred

“Inperchable.”

“No,” Will said between fits of giggling. 

“That’s what you said!” Sandesh shouted with a wide grin.

Eventually, Peter had to tell them off to their cabins. Sandesh and Blake were sent away with echoing shouts and Jah’sir and Felix helped Jared from vomiting again following behind. Will took his spot beside Peter at the still fire. He rested his temple on his shoulder.

“’m tired.”

“You’re drunk.”

“’nd you aren’t?”

Peter helped him to his feet and before Will could blink, they were back inside their shared cabin. The world still blurred around Will as his vision and focus zeroed in on the boy in front of him. He draped his arms over Peter’s shoulder as if he would begin slow dancing with him. His fingers found the small curls at the nape of his neck. His forehead pressed gently against Peter’s and they shared a breath or two of air.

If Will was a sliver of the boy he was before he came to Neverland, he would be perfectly content with having drunken sex with Peter tonight. Alas, the one thing on his mind was not Will’s name on Peter’s lips but absolutely uninterrupted sleep. Sleep next to the boy he decided in drunken thoughts he was entirely devoted to. Pirates and fairies be damned, nobody knew the feeling he felt but the boy who shared his heart.

And when his head rested on Peter’s chest, he wondered if this was what smitten adolescents felt when they daydreamed about that one single person. Was this moment what they wrote about in storybooks? Did they mention the comfortable silence or the shared thoughts or the parallel heartbeats? Did they mention soft touches and wandering eyes or whispered words between kisses? Did they mention the all-consuming knowledge that he could kiss Peter, just to kiss Peter, and not yearn for more?

Did they mention it was this simple? This easy? This comfortable?

“Malcolm,” he mouthed in the dark of the night.

Then Pan pulled him in closer.

Chapter Text

"This will be my last confession
I love you never felt like any blessing
Whisper it is like it's a secret
Only to condemn the one who hears it
With a heavy heart"

- W.R.

Will smiled. “I like you. There are places you can’t go though , for your own safety. For example, behind Pan’s treehouse.”

“What’s behind Pan’s treehouse?” Rylan asked. 

The Thinking Tree is a wonder of Neverland and the second tallest wood in the entire Neverland Forest. Many times, the lost boys have watched Peter walk down the dirt path behind his treehouse and disappear behind the brush only to return the same. Rumors spread over the years about the tree, and many were still kindled between the boys who watched.

Because that was all they did, they watched.

They watched early in the morning, as the rising sun bled through the leaves , Peter led Will down the path and behind his treehouse. Unaware, Will assumed they would be meeting in the treehouse, and was honestly confused about why Peter didn’t climb up the steps but instead, walked passed them.

Will paused beside the first ledge, eyebrows furrowing at Pan, who glanced behind him.

“You coming?” Peter said.

Will eyes wandered behind him at the Lost Boys, all pretending not to watch Will walk down the sacred path. He knew they were. He knew because he always watched with them.

“What’s down there?” Will had asked Sandesh in his first week on the island.

Sandesh gave him a crooked grin. “His tree. Only Felix has seen it. Pan doesn’t like us going back there.”

“Some sacred shit then?” Will replied.

Sandesh shrugged. “Not sure. Nothing happens when he comes back. Nothing changes.”

Devin's cold hands, his pained eyes forced to open, his weak grip on Will’s shirt, Peter’s cold eyes when he-

Will didn’t feel like nothing has changed. He felt like he wasn’t meant to see it, but the look in Peter’s eyes dragged Will further down the path. He kept quiet and close to him as they passed the green brush that looked the same on the other pathways. Nothing changed, but Will could feel Pan’s breath pick up, regardless of how many times he tried to even it out. He was letting him in, he was ripping open the trees, the ribs around his most vital organs, and was guiding him straight toward the most vulnerable part. His heart.

The animals quieted around them , the flies refused to swarm and glide around in the air. The vines grew thicker, and the path thinner. Pan held back branches that hooded above the path and helped him cross over the bulging roots of the trees around them that stuck up from the ground.

They came to a crossroads.

“Help him!” Will had screamed at Pan. Pan eyes, wide and disbelieving. Something else had lingered there. He hadn’t known.

Will could hear his own screams echoing on the trees from what seemed to be just yesterday . Screaming for Pan. He sprinted down that path. He knew where it led. He knew the blood that stained that now consecrated ground. And when he froze, Pan knew instantly. He no longer heard the footsteps behind him and glanced back.

Will was frozen, breathing shallowly. Peter retreated to him.

The forest suffocated them and there was no room for air, no room for thought, just the belief that Peter knew where he was going. Without meaning to, Will reached out and held his shoulder. He feared he would lose sight of him. Peter guided that hand down and held it tight in his own.

One more uprooted plant, another bush tucked away, one last rock to maneuver around until-

The forest opened wide like a double door into a great chapel. The branches huddled around in one great ceiling of green and brown, as tall as a building in New York. A patch of grass and small flowers littered the space around them and made the perfect bed under one great tree.

The Pixie Hollow tree was larger and thicker, but it paled in comparison to this beauty. This tree had nothing man-made around it. It was like the island itself created the space just for Peter.

The trunk was one tangled rope of thick roots tightly corded around one another, branches stretching and reaching up into the open air above them. The trunk: web akin to muscles on the human body, full of life and strength Will only knew Peter to bear. The leaves: a rich sage that held up a canopy of shade for the two of them. They were hidden, Peter and Will, and suddenly the brunette understood why Peter would come here as often as he did. He came here to think, hence the name “The Thinking Tree” surrounded by the strength of the island.

He suddenly could comprehend why the island was such an important piece in Pan’s game. The island was a direct part of Peter and when the place where he went to think, to plan, to scheme, to dream, was dying and rotting beneath his body, he grew desperate to restore it. To restore himself.

This was his heart, this was his dream, this was his body, his thoughts, his mind as tangled as the branches that clouded above them. He couldn’t look at this space without looking at Peter. He was looking at Peter.

Will finally looked back, at Peter, who seemed just as enamored, but not with the space around them. His expression would have been unreadable hadn’t it been for their shared heart. He looked at Will like he was to the space around them, the lush life and pure air they breathed. Not even the sun could find them here. Nobody could see Will but the boy in front of him.

Will approached him in a way akin to a wounded and frightened animal. He waited for Peter to plow ahead and leave him alone here. He waited with bated breath with every step as Peter never moved. He watched Will intently, studying every flinch of movement, but Peter wasn’t the only one good at schooling his face into impassiveness.

“This is what you’ve been hiding?” Will said. “Gotta say, it’s living up to expectations. Although I might have to disprove a few ongoing theories…”

“Don’t tell them anything,” Peter said suddenly. “Don’t tell them about this. Let me do it.”

Will searched his evergreen eyes for a single sliver of any hesitation. “Can’t keep them in the dark forever, Peter.”

“I’ve been in the dark for a long time,” Peter shrugs, looking away from his calculating eyes. “Never hurts to wait.”

He knew it did. He knew the look in Devin’s eyes when Will told him just how much time had passed. However, Will had a feeling this conversation was no longer about the space lingering around them.

“Felix knows, does he?” Will sighed, refusing to look away. Peter will meet his eyes. He will meet him halfway, he must.

And he does, it takes a moment, but he does.

“He knows better than anyone else here.” He replied.

Will raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Better than me?”

Peter replied with a playful glare. “It’s not a competition.”

“I mean-” Will said. “I am literally standing-”

“You know very well that’s not what I was talking about,” Peter said, looking away again.

Shame crept up his chest and wrapped its noose around Peter’s throat. Will was silent and watched the invisible battle inside Peter’s head. He would not fight his battle for him , but he would clean his bleeding wounds once he won.

Peter shut his eyes and took an unsteady breath. “I want to… I need to tell them. But not yet. We need t o… We need to figure this out first.”

Will stepped forward and Peter inched back, a half-smile on the blonde’s face.

“Figure what out?”

“Will.” Peter insisted, failing at concealing his growing smile. “For somebody as intelligent as you I’m shocked-“

“I’m intelligent?” Will stepped forward.

“Yes, and incredibly stupid-” Peter stumbled back but grabbed Will’s hand when he saw the brunette reach for him. He tugged him forward, urging him to continue this dance with him.

Will chuckled. “What else am I, hm?”

“A nuisance.” The back of Pan’s head rested against the tree trunk.

“Oh, I’m the nuisance?!” Will exclaimed, a sly hand snaking around Pan’s wrist . Firm like an anchor in the sea. Peter couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Persistent.” Peter breathed.

“Yeah?” Will whispered.

“Bloody minded.” Peter continued, eyes fluttering shut when Will leaned in. “Real…” His breath hitched when he felt Will’s breath on his neck. “Completely unbelievable-“

“Malcolm,” Will whispered, feeling Peter’s entire body tense at the name.

Malcolm.

Malcolm wasn’t the boy in front of Will. The name Malcolm was used when the shadow was filled with fury when people who knew him wanted to get under his skin. Malcolm was a coward. Malcolm was the reason his mother was dead. Malcolm was the one to blame every time his father left and didn’t return for days on end. Malcolm learned to steal, lie, cheat, and sneak away and never grow up, clinging to a false reality. Malcolm wasn’t the boy he wanted the be, but damn it all to hell the way Will said his name made it sound so incredibly sweet. He sounded every letter and whispered it like a prayer, worshipping at an altar. He said his name with every piece of adoration he had in his voice.

Will froze, watching Peter melt against him inch by inch. He drifted his thumb over the blonde’s cheek, a reminder of where he was, who he was with, and who he himself was.

“ Say it again .” Peter choked out like floodgates opening and crashing on the other side.

Without a moment of hesitation, Will pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple and whispered again into his ear: “Malcolm.”

“Will.” Peter gasped. “Will, don’t call me that in front of-”

“That’s just for you.” Will assured him, resting his forehead on Peter’s. “Just for you.”

“You deserve an explanation,” Peter admitted after a beat of silence.

“I do.” Will agreed, reeling back and granting him the space he assumed he needed.

Peter closed his open fist, not the one insistently gripping Will’s wrist. “I promised you that much.”

“One day.” Will recounted.

“What do you want to know?”

Will didn’t need to think too long and hard about it. One question brewed in his mind since the minute he landed here.

“What happened to you?” As soon as he said it, he realized how open-ended it was. “Before, I mean.” He corrected.

Will watched Pan’s face build back into stillness. He watched every brick of every wall be placed and built as it climbed higher and higher until- Peter caught himself. He shut his eyes and took an uneasy breath.

And once he started, he couldn’t stop.

“I didn’t want to grow up.” He admitted. “Growing up meant I would end up like my father and the miserable men around him. But I did. I grew up. Nothing stopped me from becoming like them. Falling in love… Having a family… Hell, she even left our son like my mother did me and my father. And I blamed my son all the same. I was greedy all the same. But I found a way to… to leave. To avoid. And I thought I could bring him with me. I got greedy. But he couldn’t stay. His staying with me here meant me still being a father. Still a man. Still…” He paused. “So, I let the shadow take him away. Send him off. And I became this. And I got lonely.” A sudden smile crept on his face, recalling a conversation he and Will had. “Very lonely.” Pan watched Will recall it too and laugh softly. “Because at least when I was my father’s son I had people around me. I built homes in my mind, and they appeared on the island. Like it knew… Like it knew I was lonely. And then it brought me what I wanted.”

“A family,” Will answered him, watching Pan’s face try to remain neutral and still, despite the redness creeping up around his eyes. Despite the cloudy color beginning to swell.

“And I let greed overtake me again,” Pan confessed as his voice broke. “I’m no better than him.”

“Fuck that,” Will said, watching Pan’s wide and teary eyes snap to him. “All of us are our parents. Can’t help that. It’s what we do with it that’s different.”

Pan was quiet and Will was unsure he had heard him at all.

With a sigh, Will confessed his own sins. “When I was with my mother… I was surrounded by addiction. My father drank so much, my mom divorced him and he was too sick to even give us a call. My mother found my stepfather, Rob, and they both started drinking and smoking meth. Hell, she basically handed me my addiction. My brother left school to get high during the day. I spent too many hours throwing up in school bathrooms and-“

He stopped himself and recentered, choosing an uprooted branch to focus on rather than the calculating gaze of Pan .

“One of the closest people I knew there. My best friend. He saw me. He was surrounded by the same sickness too . But it was because he saw it and was disgusted by it, that he swore himself never to touch the stuff. Not even alcohol. He tried to help me. He had me stay over at his house, gave me a warm meal, a ride back home from a party. He saw me and even though he could’ve followed me into that darkness, he didn’t. He stayed and his staying showed me that the world isn’t so dark. That there is light and you can get better…” A sudden sadness overwhelmed Will. “…Even if he never saw me get better.”

Then he met his eyes again. “Point is- people are fucked up. I was born broken. So were you. But you can either see it and accept it or see it and fix it.”

“How do you fix it?” Pan asked, voice incredibly quiet.

Will huffed. “Start from the bottom, I suppose. The root of the issue.”

Pan’s gaze landed on his thinking tree. “The root of the issue.” He mumbled. “Will…”

“Yes?” Will replied.

He found those wild green eyes at him, searching for something Will couldn’t pinpoint. “I…”

Then it shattered. The walls were back up. Pan passed him and gathered himself back up. Will couldn’t help the ache in his heart when his touch was gone. He turned to see Pan but he was gone.

The desire to scream or punch something overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to collect every piece of what Pan said.

“It’s a start.” He told himself. He looked up at the great tree. He wondered how deep Pan’s roots were. How chained he was to these habits and his greed. And if Will shared his heart, he must share this tree , and he must be rooted as deep as him.

They only had time. And Will reminded himself of the vow he made to himself to break down those walls and dig up those problems. Even if doing so would make his hands bloody and let soil under his nails.

Chapter Text

Mother Superior visited the camp shortly after the boys finished their breakfast. Gone was the morning's drowsiness, replaced with new energy. The boys spoke louder, laughed more, and shouted at each other, which was a stark contrast to the controlled order she held over Pixie Hollow. Speaking of control and order, the two boys who supposedly were in charge were missing from the group of boys.

She knew Pan often elected Felix to be in charge, but it was not the tall blonde she wished to speak to.

As she approached closer, floating gently to the ground, Felix was quick to take his place in front of them.

“Mother Superior.” He looked over her, his sharp blue eyes unaware of their suspicious gaze. “What do you need?”

“Don’t fret.” She assured. “I need to speak with William. Is he here?”

She didn’t miss the look Blake, the boy with the long curly hair, gave his companion, Sandesh. The two pressed their lips together to suppress the oncoming laughter. Felix and Jared gave him a glare and a small smack over their heads before the blonde returned to Mother Superior.

“He’s probably with Pan in their treehouse.” He spoke. “They’ll be down soon.”

“Not a problem.” She said, pivoting toward the stairs that spiraled around the trunk of his tree. “I will see them upstairs.”

Felix and a few others began to guide her away, but she persevered regardless of their pestering. In fact, the louder and more insistently they shouted, the more they encouraged her to continue up each step.

Eventually, Felix picked his battle and let the two be caught by Mother Superior. Felix himself has had his lesson in knocking and praying to whatever god was listening that The Blue Fairy followed the same principle.

🟈🟈🟈

 Will’s lap was boxed in between Peter’s thighs as they both sat tangled in his sheets. While Peter was still covered by his tunic and trousers, Will’s shirt was discarded aside onto the floor and surely collecting dust as the rising sun peeked through their curtain. Since discovering their newfound understanding, if you can even call it that, any moment they spent alone that wasn’t taken up by some sort of planning or responsibility was spent just like this. Pan straddled Will and tenaciously grinding against him, finding that friction they discovered before.

 It's synergy, in a sense, the way they know each other. One so enamored with the other that they both can hardly hear the climbing footsteps growing closer. Will hardly think or breathe or hear anything other than Peter’s begging. Of course, he’s not begging. The merciless grip he has on Will’s hair tells the brunette that he is not begging. He was ordering him.

“Fuck,” Pan gasped, his forehead resting on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t stop.” He commanded, despite the tone of his voice becoming slowly nonsensical. He repeated the same insistent commands.

Then he hears it, the shouting. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Pan couldn’t either, it seemed. They would deal with their boys later after they were both satisfied.

Pan trembles over him. Will can feel his muscles go from their once relaxed state to bunched up and tense. His body was growing tired, but his desire was relentless. This was Will’s cue.

The sound of heels clattering against wood echoed as soon as Will’s hand found Pan’s waist. He watched as Pan’s hand reached out, untangling from Will’s hair, and over to the door. Without so much of a second, the door bolted locked.

“Peter-” Will said, but he was interrupted by Pan’s hand returning and pulling his hair down, forcing the brunette to look up at him. A gasp from Will echoed and morphed into a whine.

“Fuck off,” Peter mumbled under his breath, either to Will or to whoever was at the door. Will didn’t know. Pan kissed him. And then Will didn’t care. He was at the mercy of the boy above him. Anyone else could wait.

“Peter,” Will sighed, matching his pace once more. There was only Peter, Peter, and Peter.

Apparently, they couldn’t wait. A knock came a moment later, gentle but with purpose. The boys knew better than to knock. Pan groaned against Will’s growing smile.

Unbelievable, Will thought. Then, he pivoted Pan to lay on his back with the brunette over him.

He pressed a promising kiss to Peter’s temple. “We’ll finish this.” He spoke.

Peter flared a frustrated breath. “We better.” He replied, letting Will untangle himself from both Peter and the sheets.

He found his shirt which apparently landed on the desk when thrown by Pan. Another knock came.

“Give me a minute!” He said with a raised voice as he pulled the shirt over his head. “Jesus fucking-“

Mother Superior stood at the door, pristine and put together from her heels to her hair. Will stood opposite her, sweat sticking to his forehead, hair a mess, a love bite under his jaw, and a wrinkled shirt, suddenly self-conscious.

“Mother Superior!” He called out louder than she expected, followed by a crash sounding like somebody falling to the floor. Then followed by a muffled curse said through gritted teeth.

As she attempted to glance behind Will at the sudden slam, he stepped forward to crowd her gaze.

Mother Superior in all her wisdom, raised an eyebrow. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Will said rapidly, his voice breaking. He quickly cleared it. “He’s fine. What’s up? Is everything…”

He waited for Mother Superior to butt in with her explanation. She didn’t, only staring at him with a shit-eating grin slowly growing on her face.

“Is everything okay?” He repeated, clearly unamused.

“Everything is fine, William.” She assured. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“No,” Will said.

“Yes,” Peter called from inside the house at the same time.

“No,” Will said again, more insistently. “What can we do for you?”

She smiled, assessing his disheveled state. “May I borrow you for a moment?” The sound of footsteps behind Will grew louder.

He sighed and gestured back inside the treehouse. “Yeah, just let me- can I?”

“Of course.” The fairy nodded, stepping away. “No rush.”

But before she could float away, Peter pried the door open, looking cleaner than Will. However, Mother Superior was no stranger to Peter Pan. She knew what he looked like when he was unprepared or not expecting company.

“Your timing is incredible as always,” Peter said, unamused and cranky. “What is it?”

Will repressed a smile, spotting the back of Pan’s ruffled hair. “I’ll be down in a minute.” He assured Mother Superior.

“You will?” Pan turned to Will, seemingly not asking.

Will shut the door as she floated down to camp. He blatantly ignored Pan’s baffled expression and stepped in front of the mirror above the sink basin. His hair was a true mess, but he supposed it could be excused by his already curly hair. It was strange, he thought, to see it not get any longer. To not see any trace of a shadow on his chin or cheeks. He thought of how Pan would look with a soft shadow and quickly blinked the impossible fantasy away.

Once his hair was satisfactory, he plucked an animal skin jacket from the floor and pulled it on. Will’s eyes caught Pan’s bewildered stare, slowly turning into disbelief. He huffed out a breath and approached him.

“What does she want?” Pan asked, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.

“We spoke about my powers.” Will shrugged intertwining their hands and watching Peter’s critical stare falter. “She probably wants to see what I can do. Help me out.” But he didn’t seem convinced.

“Hey,” Will said, suddenly softer. “Trust me, okay?”

Pan glanced behind Will, at the door, one of the tells that Will picked up on. Whenever Pan felt trapped, helpless, or uncomfortable, he would look for an exit. He picked up on it the first time he slipped behind the animal skin and left Will to lead the boys. At the time, he believed it was his stubbornness, but lately, he deducted it as a habit and most likely a fight or flight response.

That wouldn’t do. Will kissed his forehead and felt Pan take a long breath before relaxing entirely.

“You know,” Pan said. “I’m capable of showing you how to use your powers too.”

Will raised an eyebrow at him which made the blonde smile and roll his eyes. Much better, Will thought.

“I’ll be back.” He assured.

Pan cupped his cheek and gave it a playful tap. “I trust you.” He said it like it was nothing. Will knew better. He saw the strain in his smile. And he left the boy alone in the treehouse regardless.

🟈🟈🟈

“So, Tell me.” The Blue fairy began. “What have you done?”

Will recollects the moments when he had used his magic. The moments where he had teleported himself and or Pan to different places. Some are more purposeful than others.

“Peter and I keep having these shared thoughts. Or like same ideas at the same time.” He began. “Peter told me that when I’m hurt, it hurts him. I don’t know what’s going on. At one point I think I can control it but then I get scared or pissed off and something happens.”

She listens, her face cautious and calculating. Even when they were alone, she still held herself up with an element of authority. “I can teach you.” She said, a book manifesting in her hand. “We can build a solid foundation and work our way up. We can start with roots for incantation.”

“What?”

“Learning the language.”

“What language?”

The Fairy’s eyebrows narrowed. “Has Peter not taught you anything about magic?”

Will suddenly felt very guilty. “He said he could and pouted when I told him you were instead.”

She shook her head. “All magic has its price and with all due respect, I’m not entirely sure Peter is the best teacher in regard to that.”

He remembers the heartbroken look on Peter’s face, flashes of regret whenever they fought, the hours Peter would disappear for, and the fear in the other boy’s eyes. “Yeah, he told me about Rumple.”

She suddenly softens, like a wall decaying. “He did?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

She pressed her lips together as if to conceal whatever she was about to say. “How was that?” She asked.

He sighed, watching her open the book. “Emotional. Difficult to process. But I think him telling me at all helped me hear him out. He pretended nothing happened and hasn’t spoken about it since.”

She walks over to him, letting him look over her shoulder. “Peter is very good at hiding, William. Hiding helps him control himself, his emotions, and his relationships with others. He can hide true intentions; he can hide what deeply troubling him. He lies to himself and other people.”

“Preaching to the choir, Mother Superior.” He replied as he glanced over the runes.

She shut the book. “Blue.”

“What?”

She turned to him. “Call me Blue.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“It’s…” He began, not finding the words. “What’s your real name?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re real name.” He repeated. “Peter’s real name is Malcolm. He was Malcolm before he was Peter.”

She smiled, surely praising Peter for sharing that detail with Will. Perhaps Peter felt more for Will than she expected. “Reul Ghorm.” She replied. “What is your name?”

She knew his name. She just wanted to meet him. She wanted to come to him as equals. Gone was any sense of authority. “William. William Rivers.”

She guided him to sit on a nearby stone. “Do you miss your family, William Rivers?”

He looked off for a moment. “They are a part of me. It’s hard to live in a world where my siblings are not.”

“You have many, do you not?”

“Yes.”

Blue crossed her legs and leaned in; her palm outstretched. “Tell me about them.”

“What does this have to do with magic?” He replied, hesitantly holding out his hand.

“Emotions fuel your magic.” She explained, gently guiding it face up. “Tell me about your family.”

He sighed. There were many things. So many branches of the tree, many lush with leaves, some hanging dead and threatening to shatter a glass window. “What do you want to know?”

Her right hand came up over his palm and thin whisps of blue light, feather-light, gently traced the lines of his calloused hand. “Whatever you would like to tell me. Whatever you would like to remember.”

He closed his eyes, deciding it was too much to watch her magic.

“Whatever I would like to remember.” He mumbled, feeling the feeling become slightly stronger, a soft pinch.

“My older brother, Clayton. I’ve always had a weird relationship with him. He dropped out of school to take care of our two little sisters. The last time I saw him he was smoking himself out. He’s funny. He makes me laugh but I also worry about him. He thinks he must prove himself to the people around him. Maybe we aren’t so different in that regard. He was just a kid, not much older than me. I hope with all this time that has passed, he sorted all of that.”

His hand started to tremble up and down, he tried to steady it, but Blue squeezed him gently.

“It’s fine. Keep going.”

He took another breath and closed his eyes tighter.

“My sister, Addie. I shared a room with her since I was little. She struggled with nightmares and would wake up screaming. I used to wake up in fear of her waking up. I taught her a lot, but she grew nasty and resentful of almost everyone around her. Now that I think about it, it could’ve been our mother. But she cared, my sister. We would hold each other up and make sure the other didn’t fall. And if one of us did, we would pick the other up.”

It was a strong sting, akin to a syringe in the center of his hand. His eyes shot open, his hand flinching away.

Blue let him. “You mentioned two little sisters. If she one of them?”

He took a shaky breath. “Well, she is my little sister. But my mother divorced our piece-of-shit father and remarried someone worse. Had two little girls. Claire and Ira. Ira was born early because her dad got arrested for hitting Clayton. My mother gave birth a few hours after he left in a police car. She spent 9 months in the hospital before we could take her home.”

Saying it all out loud felt like a lie. But it came out the truth.

“Your mother?” She asked.

“No, Ira.”

She nods, never a flash of pity on her face, not even for a moment. He appreciated it.

“What of Claire?” She asked.

He smiled. “The older one. Reminds me of Addie.”

“How so?” She asked, holding out her hand.

He gave her his open palm. “She is curious. She has this light that nobody could take away. She can be bitter and stubborn like her. She knows her father is a bad man, and I think that scares her.”

She kept her eyes on Will. “Why?”

He paused. Why wouldn’t it scare her? Shit, it scared him, and he wasn’t even related to the man.

Then it hit it.

“Because I’ve told her he would get better so many times. And he didn’t. She believed me but she saw what he did. I don’t miss the way she would run to Addie and me when a door slammed.” His voice suddenly broke before he could catch it and repress it. He shut his eyes tight, feeling his throat close up. “I don’t miss the way they would run to him when he would come home after working for so many hours trying to pay the bills. I don’t miss the way he would favor them over the three of us.” She opened his eyes and let out a sad laugh, eyes red and glossy. “I don’t miss the look in his eyes when he told me he hated me. When he grabbed my neck and told me he hated me. I know that her seeing that scares her. But they are far away from him now.”

“How do you know?”

Will huffed. “Peter showed me.”

Blue went silent and suddenly stood, Will’s hand falling back beside himself.

“What?” He said to Blue’s back, fury suddenly bubbling up. “You think he was lying?”

“No,” She began, turning to him with sadness, pity all over her face. “I think he needed your heart.”

His throat opened and he had a voice. His weak muscles grew stronger and tense. “How could you say that?” He barked. “If it weren’t for him-” But the words never came, only images. Only images of his mother passed out, of hiding with his sister in closets, of finding broken glass on the floor.

“William,” Blue snapped.

“You have no idea what this is like. And yet you pretend to understand my situation?!”

“William!”

“What?!” He shouted.

“Look!”

He didn’t notice it, but it was unmistakable. And it was gone the second he saw it. The black smoke whisked between his fingers and around his palm.

He looked up to Blue slowly, eyes calculating and still red and puffy with fury. “You did that on purpose.”

She nodded, stepping forward and taking Will’s hands to examine it. “Emotions cloud Peter’s judgment. You share his heart. His pain.” Then, she dropped it with a smile. “A theory I wanted to test."

He didn’t smile back.

Chapter Text

Will returned to camp when the night had veiled the pole. Stars glittered around the sky and blinked far away. The campfire was dull, and the smell of smoke lingered in the air. Weapons and clutter were discarded around the seating logs. Will stepped carefully over them, tripping once or twice. Truly, he could teleport straight into bed with Peter. But he was exhausted, and Blue’s words still lingered in the back of his head.

When one of the last lost boy tree-hut fluttered into darkness, the tallest tree stood like a lighthouse, guiding Will home. The climb was a trek, and the warmth inside greeted him with an embrace.

The entire camp is asleep and yet, Peter still sits at his desk beside the lamplight. His back turned to Will as he approached him. Hands still tainted with frigidness laid over both Peter’s shoulders. The boy jumped sightly, easing just as quickly into those calloused hands.

Sketches are scattered across the table, tangled with other sheets of paper, filled entirely with chicken scratch. Will recalls the note he read, written by Peter, assumed to be in the fits of mania. He watches as Peter slides one sketch out of view. A distant ache feeling something like empathy rolls through him. Without words, his hand snakes down and he drapes himself entirely over Peter. A shadow holding him close, grounding him back to this moment.

His blonde hair shifts and Peter looks up at Will. All he could see was green. Even through the darkness of the night, the lamplight illuminates those sage eyes. He could see forests in those eyes. He could see rainstorms. He could see life and light and certainty. Without words, Will leans down and presses his lips to his forehead. He lets himself pause there, breathing slowly the smell of rain. Even through timeless days, winter is still coming. Leaves have fallen and dried out on the ground, leaving strong branches bare and vulnerable to frost. Will could find warmth here. He could find life.

Peter shifts, looking back at those sheets of paper.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Will said, his voice muffled in the nest of golden hair.

Peter tilted his chin up, now looking directly at Will above him. “What?”

“It’s an idiom,” Will explained. “Tell me something you’re thinking about.”

Peter looked back at his desk. “Devin.”

Will froze slightly, the boy not crossing his mind until now. He rested his chin back on Peter’s head. “Anything specific about him?”

“He smiled more.”

Will tilted down to see a sketch, which looked like it was torn out of Devin’s journal. It was Peter, drawn by Devin. Will could recognize the pattern in the boy’s art style. He was on a cliffside, looking out into the landscape. He’s flashing a brilliant toothy grin.

“I’m sure you did too,” Will replied.

Peter sighed. “He made me smile more. He was quite funny, Devin. You remind me of him, sometimes. He went into his shell when the others arrived. I think he does best in quiet places.” He paused. “I’m sure he is somewhere quiet now.”

The concept didn’t go unnoticed by Will. The funeral had left him with some questions. All of which he never asked. They seemed pointless at the time, none of them being able to change the circumstances or even bring Devin back. Death, in Will’s eyes, has always been something he pondered. He theorized he himself was dead when he first arrived on the island. Then he thought, maybe when he prayed, God was listening and took him here. But what was here? He didn’t want to think about that because it ultimately led him down the pathway of thinking about punishment and salvation and he never really had a good relationship with religion.

Sometimes, Will thought, he talked about it with Clayton. They talked about a lot, especially when they got high together on quiet nights when the rest of the house was asleep. They talked about religion and if they deserved certain things that happened to them.

Then he thought about getting high and how terrible it made him feel. For some strange reason, he remembered the exact location of the pipe down at the camp and maybe when Peter fell asleep-

He caught the train of thought and dragged himself back to the moment he was in. Not there. Here. With Peter. He didn’t want to leave Peter in the middle of the night. He wanted to stay.

“Peter.” He decided on.

“Yeah?”

He turned to slump more deeply over Peter’s back, his lips beside the blonde’s ear. “I love hearing you talk, Peter. But can we talk in bed?  I’m literally about to collapse over top of you. I feel myself losing consciousness.” He said through fits of tired laughter.

Peter turned to look at the boy leaning over him. “I can carry you.”

“No, you can’t.”

Peter rose from his seat, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Want to make that bet?”

His hands swiped over to the brunette’s kneecaps. “Peter! No, you- “

It was cut off by the uncharacteristic shriek Will made when Peter practically scooped him from the hardwood floor. His feet were still stained with dirt and Peter had hardly taken off his boots at all. Like a bride crossing the threshold, Peter carried him across the room and through the animal skin barrier. And without much grace at all, Peter dropped him on the bed.

“You can’t just-“ Will said through a fit of giggling. Peter’s knee came up on the mattress, climbing in with him.

They really shouldn’t be this loud. The wooden planks that surrounded them were hardly soundproof. Then they kissed and honestly, who cares if the boys hear them?

The back of Will’s head rests gently on the cloth pillowcase, the mattress sinking lower when Peter pressed his weight against Will. Although Will knew Peter would never admit to it: Will had Peter enjoyed being held like this. He wasn’t weightless however, and Will gently molded them into a manner where Peter laid only slightly on top of Will, with the brunette carefully cradling the other’s head under his chin.

There was no need for a blanket or concealing warmth here. Will recalled Peter forgot to put out the lamplight but couldn’t bring himself to worry about a lit flame. It would burn and burn out late into the night. They had matches here somewhere. The darkness of the night never bothered them much beyond that.

“You miss him,” Will said softly.

“I do.” Peter agreed.

A silence overcame him and lingered. Silences were loud with Peter. They always meant something. When Will refused to fill it, he continued. “Time works differently here. On the mainland, there is a guaranteed end to things… To relationships… To experiences… Here it has the potential to be endless. You can know someone for 100 years and spend 100 more with them. Even if to us it felt like a few years, the potential of it made me feel… deeper about him. It comforted me. Knowing that there was no end.”

“But there’s always an end, Peter.”

Peter’s face darkened suddenly, a soft ache to be found underneath his mask.

“There’s a poem about that, yknow?”

Peter looked to the ceiling. “Do you remember it?”

Will pauses, the implication striking him. Strangely enough, he did. It was his 11th grade English class and his teacher insisted he had a writing talent and should read up on some poetry.

“Do not go gentle into that good night, old age should burn and rave at the close of day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light… There’s also Dickinson. Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me… Walt Whitman: O Captain my Captain. Can’t forget Edgar Allen Poe, Quoth the Raven, Nevermore- “

“People dwell too much on it.” Peter interrupted.

Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “Death?”

“Endings.” He corrected. “It’s not important.”

Will almost barked out a laugh. “Of course it’s important.”

“Children should spend their lives enjoying the experience, not counting down the days till it’s over.” He insisted. “It’s always endings. People dying, marriages in divorce, graduations, moving out, never any consistency.”

 “Were you not dwelling on it a minute ago?”

“I was thinking about Devin.” He replied, voice slightly raised. “Not his death. His life.” Peter raised himself off Will’s chest and sat up. Will followed up. “Nobody writes poems or sonnets about passions, or a mother’s joy, a father’s honor… Nobody thinks twice about the laughter, the smiling, the small hobbies that interested them, or the way their eyebrows would scrunch together when confused… Nobody talks about them speaking with their hands and running them through their hair. The way they sound sleeping and the look in their eyes when they are interested. It’s so subtle and fleeting. That’s what people should focus on…  They forget about it. Because they are too focused on death.”

Will was silent for a moment. “I disagree Peter.”

The blonde smiled softly. “Of course you do. You should. It’s your job to challenge me.”

Will choose to ignore that. “There are plenty of poems about life. Besides, when you’re talking about death, are you not also talking about living?”

Then, Peter paused. He looked off as if to consider the notion. “Give me an example.”

“Do not stand by my grave, and weep. I am not there; I do not sleep— I am the thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints in snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle, autumn rain. As you awake- “

“-awake with morning’s hush,” Peter talks over him, startling him into silence. “I am the swift, up-flinging rush of quiet birds in circling flight, I am the day transcending night. Do not stand by my grave, and cry—I am not there, I did not die.”

“I thought- “

“I never spent time on the mainland? Wendy liked that one. Read it to me and I never forgot it.”

“Any other mainland culture I don’t have to catch you up on?”

“We’ve discussed my fairytale, haven’t we?”

“We have.”

Peter looked puzzled for a moment, then turned his head back to Will, who had sunk deeper into the pillow. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Will giggled. “Sure- but you’re not using that right.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Peter corrected quickly.

“It’s a bit depressing,” Will said with a sigh. “Advanced computers. The globe is warming. We went to the moon- “

“The moon?” Peter exclaimed.

“Yeah.” He replied. “In the 60’s.”

“Have you been?” He seemed excited.

“To the moon?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Peter looked off again and returned to Will. “Do you want to?”

“Hell no!” He replied. “It’s dangerous.”

Peter didn’t look away from Will for a long moment, pondering something. Then, he smiled wickedly. Will’s eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me you can go to the moon-” “I mean if you don’t wanna go- “Peter!” Will practically shouted, doubt creeping in. There’s no way-

Peter’s head is thrown back in the hardest laughter Will has ever seen from him. He could hardly speak over his own giggling. “I’m- I’m just fucking with you!”

He continued, leaving Will in disbelief, mouth gaped open and a smile rising slowly.

“I’m rubbing off on you,” Will said.

Peter flashed him another brilliant smile. “Speaking of what I’m missing- “

“Peter!”

His laughter echoed off the walls. His laughter was muffled in the crook of Will’s neck. His laughter was soft against the cloth blanket. His laughter was a soft breeze, hot on his skin, warm against his heart, beating rapidly with every passing second. He savored the sound. He cradled it and let it trust him as its caregiver. He pulled that laugh out of him. He held it close and let it settle into contentment. The belief in himself that he could make Peter happy surged and he pulled the boy closer to him.

“You are,” Peter began suddenly. “Technically my first.”

“Your first what?” He replied.

“Most things.” Peter shrugged. “I mean- I’ve obviously been with somebody. I suppose this is just different. “

Will gave him an assured smile. “I’ve sort of assumed you’ve never been with a boy.”

Something settled over Peter, a new feeling of contentment and calm. He seemed more free, uninhibited, and shameless. He looked up to Will, their faces inches apart between the undulations of sheets. “Thank you for being patient with me. I know you're more…”

When Peter didn’t continue, Will encouraged him. “More what?”

He winced. “Experienced.”

Will smirks. “Oh yes, and I’m going to taint your innocence with my deviant seduction.”

Peter rolls his eyes, his forehead dropping back onto Will’s chest. “Or perhaps I’ve been seducing you this entire time.”

“I knew you got off on my misery.”

“I just like how persistent you are.” Peter looked back up at him. “Determination is very attractive.”

 “You know what I find attractive?”

“What?” Peter asked, his voice suddenly softer than a whisper.

Will’s hand cups the other side of Peter’s face, running his fingers through his hair. He knew how pliable Peter was to this. He felt the boy become putty under his touch, malleable and shameless. With a very steady and sure voice, he whispered: “Boys who can recite poetry.”

It earns Will another fit of contagious laughter.

“Oh, that does it for you?” Peter asked, tilting his chin to catch him in a brief kiss. Peter breaks it, Will chases him. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—” It’s broken up by Will kissing him deeper. It’s broken up by Peter laughing harder. “I took the one less traveled by-” Will’s hand snakes around the boy’s waist and gently pinches. “Will!”

Before he could fight it, Will pivoted Peter on his back, crossing his legs over his lap.

“I thought you were on the brink of unconsciousness, you liar!” Peter exclaimed. If it weren’t for the aching smile on his face, Will would’ve taken offense. He leaned in and collapsed, putting every ounce of dead weight on top of Peter. “Will! You’re crushing me!”

“What was that?” Will replies, his nose drifting over Peter’s ear. “I can’t hear you. I’m asleep.”

Peter’s strong hands attempt weakly to push Will off him. “You… big boned… arsehole! Get up!”

“What happened to you being able to carry me?” Will asks, his hands wandering again. Peter could get Will off him. But he didn’t want him to. He wanted to play. This was their game.

“What happened to you being asleep-” But it’s cut off by the sound of shock Peter makes when Will begins to tickle him.

Cuffed wrists come flying up to tear Will’s hands away from him, a bright smile on the boy’s face. Using only his partial strength, he successfully ceases Will’s hands and tackles him back against the bed, taking a part of the top sheet with him. This game was one they were familiar with. Will would snatch Peter’s climbing hands and yank him down to crush him into a searing kiss.

The rest of the night comes easily, as routine as breathing. Pan is laid in a deep sleep, shirt, and shoes discarded by Will. His frame is lean and as corded as rope. If it weren’t for his magic, Will might believe people would underestimate his strength. Soft chestnut hair over his eyes as his mouth lay slightly open. His chest rises slowly under Will’s cradled arm. He didn’t sleep. He kept thinking, staring blankly at the nape of Peter’s neck. He listened to the soft snoring and rhythmic breathing.

He thought about the pipe and how many hits he could take of it without going to search for more of the leaves. The residue wouldn’t be the greatest aftertaste, but he would take the cost. He wouldn’t leave, however. Not right now. He would wait until the sun rose entirely over the ocean. Then he would move.

They say you know you have found your soulmate when you enjoy the way they smell. Pheromones or something. Peter, or rather, Malcolm, smelled like cool air and the green stains that never rub off your jeans after you kneel on freshly cut grass. He smelled like the world after a storm on a clear day. He felt sharp, like a pinprick or the edge of a knife, stealing you of thought and breath and reason.

He shut his stinging eyes, the warmth enveloping him. Maybe he could stay like this forever. Maybe if Peter could freeze time, they would have just a few more minutes of this. But nothing lasts forever. And nothing is certain. Will sees the first glimpse of the sun peer through the shades and thinks it’s light enough.

Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die.

— Clare Harner, The Gypsy, December 1934

Chapter Text

It’s when Jared’s head hits the dusting dirt ground that he relents . A laugh is ripped out of the grounded boy, either out of disbelief or amusement. Will doesn’t mind either . He kneels, blissfully out of breath, and holds out an open palm for Jared to take. Calloused hand in calloused, bruised hand.

It was only in moments like these that he genuinely noticed his progression. He has noticed the lost count of weeks, of months. Has it been a year yet? He doesn’t feel any older, and yet his muscles and rebuilt themselves stronger, his skin has been abused and healed in scars. His feet have bled and torn and new strength has returned in his standing. He could feel the earth beneath his skin , he could feel the island breathing below his toes. He could hear the wind and feel the breeze in his veins. He had never  been anything close to religious, but this constant feeling could prove the existence of a god.

 Granted, he excused it for the magic or the presence of Pan. In moments of unnoticed intimacy or quiet solitude with the boy-king , he found a boy . A boy no older than him, his chin untouched with hair growth and eyes wide and wild with adventure. When Pan lowered his walls brick by brick, he was Peter. A man. A man scared by life and escaping in the mold of childhood . Reminiscing the past. However, Will thought, could you truly reminisce about something you never had? Never experienced?

Perhaps he was acting out what he dreamed his childhood could’ve been. And maybe, just as he told Will, he was granting the boys that same freedom. A chance to be a boy before life scarred them in ways this island has yet to.

He owned the scars on his torso from battles. He liked the bruises from fighting and training. He traced and chipped the callouses on his fingers and palms from climbing or holding an arrow in place. He preferred them over the cigarette burns he gave himself. An accident , he forgot he had lit them. Or the internal bruises around his neck, his wrist, the black eyes, the blackened lungs, the racing heart.

“I wonder if that heart gave you some sort of newly found strength!” Jared jested. “You’ve been whopping my ass ten-fold lately!”

“Blame Peter,” Will replied. “He’s insistent on training since our encounter with Fiona.”

“He always gets like this after a big fight,” Jared assured, dusting off any dirt he could from the front of his tunic. “It will pass. These fits always do with him.”

“He cares about you guys,” Will commented, walking with him back to camp. “You didn’t see him, but we were both stressed.”

Jared smirked. “Guess it gave you two times to find some common ground.”

Will couldn’t help the scoff that left him. “Something like that.”

“You two always butting heads one moment, the next you are buddies.” Jared continued. “Not gonna lie, it’s a bit of a hassle to track.”

A silence fell over them as Jared paused in his path. Will looks back at him.

“You two are okay, right?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Will answered. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Jared echoed. “I mean, we all thought…”

But he didn’t continue.

“Thought…?” Will prompted.

Another silence. “I don’t want to…”

“Finish sentences? Is that it?”

Jared sighed, falling into step beside Will. “It’s just that you two bicker like some married couple. You keep sharing these looks like you know what the other is thinking .”

“We kinda do.”

“Bicker?”

“No. Well, yeah.” Will replied. “But I mean the thought thing. We can communicate like that … sort of.”

Jared doesn’t reply after a beat. Then, in a break of silence, “Are you two more than that?”

Will has to physically recoil the lump in his throat and jump in his abdomen. “More than what?”

“Friends?”

Suddenly, the path ahead is incredibly fascinating to Will. He doesn’t know why this question shocks him. He had this conversation with Peter, but they never agreed to speak about it since or even what to say to them or who would say what.

“He’s my partner.” He settles on.

It seems sufficient for Jared. Thankfully, Jah’sir comes trotting down the pathway toward them at the break into camp.

“Yo!” He calls out, slowing to a stop. He holds out a small wooden box to Will. “Happy Birthday.”

It’s not his birthday, but he takes it anyway. “Jah’sir, what is this?”

“Don’t get all girlish on me now. It’s from The Blue Fairy.”

He traces the opening and finds the golden lock, easily picked by a slide of the thumb . It clicks open, and he lifts the top.

“Holy shit!” Will exclaims in a splitting laugh, lifting the gun and handing the box off to Jared.

No doubt about it, it was a gun. Nothing from the 21st century. From the looks of it, not even from the 20th century. It was shaped in a soft L shape, the brass barrel glinting in the sun. Cupping the barrel was a wooden casing, stretching down to the matching brass butt. Steel was the trigger guard, and whatever mechanism above it bewildered Will beyond compare. Then he remembered the very same gun he held up to Fiona.

 “No way she gave you a gun!” Jared said.

“I’m surprised Pan allowed that,” Jah’sir said.

“Does he know?” Will heard Jared reply.

Jah’sir plucked out a note from inside the box. “There’s a letter addressed to you too .”

Will turned to set the gun back in the box before he took the note from the boy. Splitting the wax seal that held the folded paper closed, the boys crowded over Will’s shoulders.

William Rivers,

Peter tells me that boys who excel at their combat skills get awarded a signature weapon. For Blake, a bow crafted from the wood of a Pine is famously admired for being a symbol of resilience and friendship. For you, a piece of the modern world and a souvenir from your first true battle. Don’t worry, it wasn’t entirely my idea , I wasn’t the only one who saw how skilled you were with it.  We will continue your training when I return from the mainland.

May you and yours continue in good health and good spirits,

Blue

Once they entered the main camp, the boys had finished the morning delegated tasks and were lounging around the stone circle that held the bonfire. Only there was no bonfire but the ashes of the one they lit the night prior. Beyond Jah’sir and Jared, who strode beside Will, were Blake and Sandesh, both bickering over the proper way to knife toss . Felix barked an order at them, admittedly too busy with whatever paper Peter was showing him to truly be invested in their behavior . When Peter's eyes locked with Will’,s they visibly softened, and the closer the trio got to the center, the more they wandered over Will’s body.

“He’s trumping me every time,” Jared half-complained, taking his seat before plucking a carton of water from the ground and taking a swig.

“ Pinche pendejo ! You know you are supposed to hit the target!” Blake suddenly shouted at Sandesh.

“What the hell do you think I’m doing, dumbass?” Sandesh snapped back before ripping the dagger from the tree the target was posted over .

“Will you two cut it out?” Felix voiced over their bickering. “That or move it to the training field!”

“Knowing those two, one of them will lose a finger again,” Jah’sir commented.

“They- Again?” Will replied.

An inhuman shriek echoed across the camp, snapping necks in the two boys’ direction. Sandesh had thrown the knife at the ground beneath Blake. It didn’t take long for Blake to pounce and wrestle him to the ground.

Everyone, excluding Jared, who was too busy finishing whatever food the other boys didn’t finish from their plates , stood and walked over.

“Kick his ass, Blake!” Jah’sir encouraged.

It was much less a fight and more like a sad wrestling match where both opponents didn’t want to truly injure the other.

Peter, without much worry at all, approached closer than anyone else, threaded his hands in a nest of black hair, and ripped Sandesh off Blake, who was pinned to the floor. Will stepped forward next, snatching Blake’s forearm and holding him back.

“Enough,” Will demanded.

Carelessly, Pan pulled Sandesh to his feet by his hair and released him. The boy stumbled back, a scowl on his face.

“Do you know how to stitch limbs back together, Sandesh?” Peter said bitterly.

“What?”

“Answer.” He demanded. “Do you?”

Blake stepped forward to intervene, but Will yanked him back, watching just as closely.

“No!” Sandesh shouted back at Peter.

“You better learn,” Peter replied, “because if this happens again, I won’t be  holding the needle and thread. You will.”

Sandesh rolled his eyes. “ Madarchod ,” Peter reached forward to grip his collar and pull him forward, shaking him slightly.

“You want to say that again?!” Peter snarled.

“Peter!” A voice roared.

But it wasn’t Felix who stunned the boy into silence. Peter’s head snapped to Will, who shouted his name.

“Let him go,” Will ordered. “You’ve made yourself clear. Hasn’t he, Sandesh?”

Peter didn’t turn to see Sandesh’s fearful expression, his mouth upturning into a nervous smile. Will saw it. Sandesh nodded. Peter didn’t let him go.

It was a still moment and a test of a theory that Jared had introduced to Will previously. If they were partners, Pan would listen. If they were equal, Pan would let him go. Will’s eyes sharpened, jaw jutting up slightly. Pan’s tensed shoulders visibly softened. He looked back at Sandesh, raised an eyebrow, and when Sandesh nodded again, he let go.

It was then when Peter turned back to Felix and Will that he saw the small box the brunette held. He moved forward like the entire encounter didn’t just occur.

“How do you like it?” Pan asked, gesturing to the box.

“I still can’t believe you swiped it off that pirate.” Felix voiced before Will could.

“He’ll get another one. Besides,” Pan assured, smirking at the brunette. “Will is better with it.”

“I would be careful if I were you, Pan. I could use it on you.” Will said before he could think about it. He didn’t miss the way Blake’s and Jared’s heads snapped toward them. He didn’t miss the way Pan’s eyes darkened.

He replied with a grin. “If only you were that bloodthirsty.” Desire was evident on his face.

🟈🟈🟈

“It’s a bit old school,” Will said off-handedly. “I’d need bullets.”

The group settled around the fire, a routine settlement at this hour. Finished was their meal, discarded around the ground in a series of wooden plates. In order of appearance, there was Peter, who played experimentally with his flute. Then Felix, who poked the fire with a prod. Beside him was Jah’sir, who, when beside Felix, looked a normal height. Sandesh sat between Jared and Blake, who were talking too loudly over each other for Will to be able to decipher what they were saying. Beside Jared was Will, inspecting his new weapon and polishing it with a once white, not so white anymore, cloth.

Sandesh leaned forward to inspect the gun. “That’s a flintlock. You know how to shoot it?”

“You know how to shoot?” Will asked, surprised.

“I did,” Sandesh said.

Will didn’t miss the look in Pan’s eyes when the boy admitted it. In truth, the confession shocked Will as well. He was under the impression only Peter and himself and maybe even Felix had some recollection of their lives on the mainland. Sandesh holds out his hand. Curious, Will hands him the gun.

“Shooting it disengages the sear and releases the hammer,” Sandesh explains, pointing and gesturing to the anatomy of the pistol. “This goes forward, causing the flint to hit the frizzen. At the same time, the flint and hammer push the frizzen back, opening the cover, which contains a bit of gunpowder.”

It stuns Will and Peter into silence. Admittedly, Peter was already silent before Sandesh began speaking, but Will still felt his stillness beside him.

“I’m surprised you still… remember that,” Will mumbled.

Sandesh looks off, his eye distant and wishful. Then, he shrugs. “It’s just knowledge to me. I know it all like the way I know how to nock an arrow or speak a language.”

“I enchanted it.” Peter blurted beside Will.

“The gun?” Will replied.

“The bullet will always reach its target.” He explained further. “You just need to know what to aim for.”

“It looks like a single-shot pistol, so you’d need to reload it each time you fire.” Sandesh joined in.

“Only need one bullet.” Will agreed, turning back to Peter. “Speaking of, I’ll need some. Didn’t see any in the box.”

Pan rested a hand on Will’s knee. “I’ll have them made.” He spoke.

The darkness saturates around them, and the hand does not leave Will’s knee. In fact, it travels. It rises from the cap to the muscle. Innocent enough to the naked eye, but anyone who looked for more than a moment would put the implication to work. To Will’s relief, most boys were busy in their own worlds to be looking their way. Peter’s hand was hidden in the shadows around the fire. Nobody saw Will settle his own over it, keeping it there.

His skin tingles with each breeze of cool wind , but the fire blazes around them. Eventually, the boys draped, a clear indicator of their inebriated state. It’s a miracle, Will thought, they never woke up with a piercing migraine. He wondered if any of them had ever had a hangover in their lives . Another nightmare Peter has saved them from.

The world was blurring, and Will’s stomach leaped and galloped each time Peter leaned in to whisper something in his ear. The shirt he wore felt tight, his heart beat out of his chest, his face felt hot, and his skin freezing cold. Pan’s hand was warm and light, and the leash that pulled him closer and closer.

Suddenly, Peter leaned to his left to say something to Felix, something he hadn’t done all night. Why is he whispering? Will thought, slightly inebriated. His stomach churned, and he hoped it wasn’t the alcohol.

Before rising from his seat, Pan leaned in once more to Will and said, “Come on,”

“What?” Will replied, rising with him.

“Follow me.” He whispered it like a secret . Like the boys couldn’t see them sneak away. 

They stepped away like rebellious teenagers defying their parents’ orders. He felt stupid, he felt giddy, he felt childish. Pan turned once or twice, hand in hand with Will, to smile deviously at him. Giggles were exchanged until they were out of sight from camp.

“Where are we going?” Will asked him. From this distance, he could hardly hear the boys and their shouting.

 “I want to show you something,” Pan said, letting his hand go and stepping quicker into the depths of the unmarked forestry.

Will never realized how rarely he ever went beyond the implied territory of the main camp . The feral animalistic noises that had ensured that habit. Before he had a second thought, Pan turned around, put a hand on his shoulder, and changed the world around them.

What once was dense shrubbery and mazes upon mazes of tree trunks  became a great cave entrance on the side of a cliff outlooking the ocean. The moon glinted and glittered over the ocean in a smear of white light. The cave’s entrance was a gaping hole akin to an open mouth, totally veiled by darkness.

With the confidence of a boy at home , Pan stepped forward to enter , feeling Will’s still hesitancy behind him.

“Trust me.” He said, grabbing hold of Will’s hand again. “Don’t let go of my hand.”

With an unsteady gait, Will followed him as they stepped forward into the darkness of the cavern .

Total silence followed. The ground was solid and flat beneath his feet, and the sound of Pan’s boots hitting the path led him like a lantern. The stone, when stepped on with his feet, felt cold and bitter, untouched by the sun’s gaze. Distantly, Will could hear the consistent rushing sound like a machine running with a deep and low roar. Each step forward made it louder.

He kept his eyes on Peter, or at least where he believed Pan would be. His hand held tightly onto Will’s, guiding him forward toward the end of the cavern. Eventually, a small spark of light could be spotted ahead . Closer and closer they ventured until Pan pulled him back against the stone wall.

The roar was thunderous. It cracked and rushed away other sound away. Peter’s mouth moved, but Will didn’t hear any noise.

“What?” He shouted at Peter.

Peter obviously saw the way Will’s mouth moved and made a face. Gesturing him forward, he led Will out of the cave. Nothing could have prepared him for what waited. It’s not nearly as romantic as films make it seem. But it captivates him.

A wall of white rushing water was falling no more than two or three yards away. The stone beneath their feet was soaked through, puddles collecting the rainwater. It was unstoppable, it was great, it was awesome . And not in the way most people perceive the word. Truly, Will was in awe, mouth gaping open and a smile splitting his face.

They were behind a waterfall.

“How did you find this?!” Will shouted, still gripping the blonde’s hand.

“What?!” He shouted back.

“How did you find this?!”

“A while ago!”

He didn’t elaborate. Will thought on it and deduced they agreed on silence. They watched sparks leave the coursing path and fall on the stone a few feet ahead. Curious, Will stepped forward to hold his hand out to feel the sprinkles of white.

The waterfall was water. Water is heavy, especially when it is thundering through the earth and falling at intense speeds such as this. The force of the single droplet made him jerk his hand back and swear audibly.

Peter laughed at him. Will laughed with him.

“It’s loud!” Will called.

“What?!” Peter replied.

Will laughs at him. Peter laughs with him.

The brunette stepped backward, making space between the rushing water and himself. Peter quickly followed him. From where they were standing, the moon could shine through the wall of water. It wasn’t so much the moon as it was a glowing orb of transcending light. It was full , or almost full , and it illuminated the cave they stood in with bright blues and sparkling silvers.

Peter caught his eyes and didn’t say a word in their unspoken vow of silence. He took Will’s hand and got lost in the boy’s gaze. Will wouldn’t know it, but the moonlight made his indigo eyes glow. His iris sharpened in the blue light and pierced through Pan’s heart. They were melancholy daggers of adoration. His dilated pupils were coated with the darkest coating of Dreamshade. It was the kind of deadly beauty that got careless men killed.

Will wasn’t beautiful in the way boys typically are. He didn’t have symmetrical features or a pearly smile. He was littered with imperfections and flaws. That was what made his beauty more perceptible to Pan. They were bursts of color on a blank canvas . A smudge of black ink in a world of vibrant saturation.

Peter’s hand rises to wipe the droplets that fall on his face. With the softness of rose petals, Will held that hand and guided it to his lips. With his eyes on Peter, he kissed the knuckles, the fingertip, the print, the inside of the palm. Peter’s mind scrambled as he almost forgot why he wanted to show Will this place. He refocuses and pivots positions.

Will’s head presses against the stone. Its icy pierce, like an acute pin-point prick through the skin, sets his body on fire despite the freeing water thundering ahead and around him. His body tenses involuntarily, and his back arches off the stone. He didn’t know better, and his mind wandered back to the cracking pain of the hot-spring cave.

Peter notices this, or at least that is what Will believes. Perhaps it was the auditory gasp he emitted against Pan’s lips. With the slyness of a snake, his hand moves up, through Will’s midnight curls to cup the back of his head, slightly tugging at the nape. His hand was warm and guiding, molding him back into a buzzed-like state.

Peter pressed his mouth to Will’s temple, his jawline, his throat. Gentle but searing.

Oh god , Will thought.

The waterfall fell ahead of them, a curtain of blazing blue power. It crashed against the rocks and paved its way around them, hiding them , securing them. No sound could reach past the wall of water. Even the moon was concealed, its light being the only penetrator. It was dim , it was cold, but between them, it was pulsing heat. Nothing kept him warmer.

Finally, Peter’s lips fluttered over Will’s. The brunette leaned forward, desperate. Peter didn’t let them press any further. Good things come to those who wait, Will found himself believing. Their foreheads met. Peter kissed his cheek, his nose, his closed eyes.

“Peter,” Will whispered. He doubted he would hear him over the thundering waterfall.

Cuffed wrists dance below Will’s shoulders, and fingertips trace his forearm. It felt impossible to be left so incredibly breathless by such a thing. Will didn’t realize how hard he was panting or how his heart was racing.

The hand danced around and jumped to his waist. Lower and lower, until those sly fingers tease the seam of his pants.

Peter looked at Will through his eyelashes. Will reached up to Pan’s cheek, then his hair, the nape of his neck. He watched the boy become as breathless as him. Green eyes fluttered closed, and his lips parted in a gasp.

“Please,” Will pleaded.

Peter gave in and kissed him.

Will felt his knees buckle under his weight when he felt Peter’s hand slip under the seam and gently cup his member. His hips bucked forward slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh, god.” Will gasped against Peter's lips, only to be consumed in them once more.

Will couldn’t hear himself over the crashing of the water. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. He knew he was swearing or at least saying something because Peter kept assuring him with delicate kisses. Each stroke made him feel like he would fall over. He was drowning , he was a hundred feet beneath the surface. He wasn’t searching for air.

“Peter, I can’t-”

“Shhh,” Peter whispered in his ear. It was suddenly the only thing he could hear. “You like this?”

Will answered with another broken cry he failed to muffle in the crook of the blonde’s neck. He leaned his head to press against Pan’s shoulder. He cried out, and Peter kept him from hitting his head against the stone. He was water beneath Peter. The boy held him together and cupped him like a steel goblet. He could fall, and Peter would catch him.

“Yes,” he finally answered, his grip on Peter’s hair tightening. “ Fuck. Peter, yes.” He said it repeatedly. Each answer brought upon a faster hand. He leaned entirely on the stone and felt his back crumble beneath it.

His body tightened, feeling the acute warmth build beneath his navel. He was familiar with it. He didn’t think it could continue, but it did. He thought he was moments away from reaching climax, but some unspeakable force was keeping him at bay. It was torturous and felt so fucking good.

He had no idea just how vocal he was being. However, nothing could pass the wall of falling water, and Will could moan out Peter’s name with nobody but the island hearing them. So, he did. He felt the ropes that tied him upright, the bindings that kept him sturdy and sane, slip and snap against the unyielding pressure. His knees gave out, his jaw went slack, and he became entirely his. Peter didn’t let him fall.

He said his name like a prayer while slurring every syllable.

“Say it,” Peter corrected. “Nobody can hear us.”

“Malcolm,” Will cried out.

Peter sped up.

“Malcolm,”

Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm.

Will sobbed the same words with blurred vision until he felt the pinch of release. It came in waves. Thinking back later, he was certain he heard Peter’s voice.

“That’s it,” Peter assured, his body holding Will’s up. “God, you're incredible.”

“Malcolm,” Will repeated, breathlessly.

Gently, Peter tilted his chin up and kissed him once more. So good, he said. So incredible. His voice was miles away, the water ahead of them silencing anything else. He closed his eyes and leaned against the stone, feeling Peter’s lips back on his temple, his jaw, his throat.

“Jesus Christ, Malcolm,” Will said through tired laughter. His lips traveled lower. His neck, his collar bone. And then he was kneeling before him.

He’s being greedy, Will thought. And he called his name again, unable to hear his own voice over the waterfall. 

Chapter Text

It is one of his favorite views in the morning. His dark hair rests over his tired blue eyes, and Peter watches his reflection in the bedroom. Lately, with the cold weather seeping through the cracks in the wooden walls, he has preferred his shirt on.

While time doesn’t age the boys, it does pass through the island. The seasons traveled past them in waves that Peter never noticed until lately. Peter only recognized the cold chill first when Felix told him that a boy had appeared on the beaches . A boy with midnight curls and piercing blue eyes that hung low in grumpy expressions. The trees had begun growing their leaves once more, and the autumn shed littered across the rain-soiled ground. Spring was afoot the day Will arrived on the island. Winter was back to rip away life.

Will was the early riser between the two of them. Peter preferred the undulations of sheets and watching Will splash water across his ivory face. The sun kissed everyone else with its gaze but left Will so pale . A phenomenon Peter could watch forever.

 He brushed his teeth tiredly with a paste made from tea tree, dogwood, and bitter root. Then, a small cup of salty ocean water to wash out whatever he couldn’t spit out. He made his opinion on the taste clear the first time he used it. The scowl on the brunette’s face told Peter that hadn’t changed.

Crossing the room shortly after, Will’s arms swept him up. With a sleepy chuckle, Pan rested his back against the expanse of Will’s chest. The taller pressed his freshly cleaned face into the nest of blonde hair.

“What did you say?” Peter replied, turning so he could rest upon the basin.

“You need a shower,” Will repeated, reaching beside Pan for the hairbrush. “All the boys do. I’ll probably take them over to the hot springs after training. No use washing when they will sweat upon it right after.”

Peter hummed in response, watching Will attempt to detangle his midnight curls. A smile grew on his face suddenly.

“What?” Will asked, mirroring his smile.

“I like you in the morning.”

“As compared to the afternoon? Or evening?”

“I hardly see you during the day. And I don’t get you alone in the evening.”

“I beg to differ,” Will smirked, taking the brush to Pan’s hair. “You got me very alone last night.”

“It’s different.” Peter plucked the brush out of Will’s hand and set it aside.

Will leaned both hands on either side of the basin, entrapping Peter entirely. He leaned in, nuzzling his nose against Peter’s forehead.

“How so?”

“You’re nicer.”

“Nicer?” Will replied, planting a gentle kiss on Peter’s temple.

“Quieter.”

“Oh, am I? You weren’t complaining a few hours ago about how quiet I was being-“

Peter’s hand rose quickly to shove Will back. Playfully, of course, but Will snatched the towel beside the basin and attempted to swat Peter with it. A brilliant smile grew on Peter’s face, leaping out of the way and stepping over into the bedroom.

Another swat earns Will a squeal, followed by a hounding of laughter. The third time, Peter grabbed it and pulled Will into a soft kiss.

It was his favorite view, but this was his favorite feeling. Feeling Will’s shoulders lower and the tension in his jaw loosen. Feeling a light breath leave his nose and brush past Pan’s mouth. Feeling Will let go and be present with him.

The churning in his stomach was abandoned and replaced with a distant sting in his head. An acute spike in sensation Peter hasn’t felt so strongly since Will arrived on the island.

He pulls away from Will, the ringing overwhelming him. He heard Will call out to him, but it was muffled as if it was spoken into cloth or through cotton. He opened his eyes, his hands still entangled in Wills hair, (his second favorite feeling).

“What?” Will says with a shy smile. “Does my mouth still taste like Jared’s awful cooking?”

Jared had cooked last night. It was truly awful . He made a mental note to assign any further cooking to Jah’sir. The boys never complained when he made their supper. However, Pan knows he is only joking. The soft concern in his blue eyes tells him that much. Peter looks away at the sun streaming through the white curtain. Then to the animal skin separating them from the rest of the cabin.

“Someone’s here.” He decided on.

Will looked with him. “Could it be Blue? That was a quick trip.”

“Maybe,” Peter admitted, peeling away from him. “Time works-“

“-works differently. Right. I know.”

Peter’s eyebrow cocked up. “ Well, pardon me for answering your question.”

“Wasn’t much of a question.” Will shrugged, holding the animal skin curtain open for Peter. “And that wasn’t much of an answer.”

Peter shakes his head with a smile. “Only you would be so impatient in a place where time stands still.”

🟈🟈🟈

On certain days, the last thing Will would like to do is work. However, the truth is, such a thing is unavoidable, especially in Neverland. On Neverland, there is an order to things. On Neverland, there can be chaos and confusion and freedom and wild behavior, but there will always be a level of control and routine. Will wrestled with himself over this fact, the simple fact that he did have a level of freedom here and a level of control.

All the boys could do whatever they liked however the choices were limited. They were expected to stay around camp during the morning unless granted otherwise. After morning came the small free period before training. This was the work. This is what consumed their day beyond playing games and entertaining each other. They took their shifts of archery, knife throwing, climbing, hunting, gathering, building, and cleaning very seriously. This is what allowed them freedom.

But they didn’t have to leave just yet, and Will spotted Blake still sitting beside the weak bonfire. He was hunched over , kneeling on one leg and scraping the rest of his uneaten food into the fire. Any closer and he would burn off his furrowed eyebrows.

Blake never dreaded the work. Archery quickly became his strongest skill, and he was admired for it. Nobody could wield Blake’s bow since the immense physical strength required to even bend the string was difficult enough. Will watched him when he trained with other weapons, but nothing compared to witnessing Blake with his bow . All shoulders and complete acute control.

Will took his place beside Blake, unlocking his gun from the holster held around his waist. The steel glinted in the morning sun and he still would insist it needed polishing. The fire crackled merrily, spitting embers into the bright blue air. Will fidgeted with the gun, the silence stretching comfortably between him and Blake.

"So," Will drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Love life update. Peter is great, thanks for asking. Anything new brewing in that heart of yours?"

Will didn’t miss the way Blake’s gaze flickered to Sandesh, noticeably distant from the duo. "Nah. Just enjoying the fire."

"I would be careful.” He paused, then added casually, "Grass stains are a bitch to get out."

Blake shot him a glare. "Don't start, Will."

"What? I'm just saying! Remember back a few months ago when you were practically tripping over yourself trying to get my attention?" Will grinned, clearly enjoying Blake's discomfort.

Blake groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Please, let's not revisit that dark chapter of my life. Okay? We've all made mistakes."

"Hey!" Will feigned offense. "I'm not a mistake. Peter doesn't think so, anyway." He leaned back, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Blake managed a tight smile. "I'm happy for you, Will. Seriously." He was, but a tiny, jealous pang still resonated in his chest. He remembered vividly the crushing disappointment of realizing Will wasn't interested in him that way.

Will studied Blake for a moment, his expression softening. "You doing okay, though? You seem ... distracted lately."

Blake shrugged, keeping his eyes fixed on the dancing flames. "Just tired, I guess."

"Right," Will said, dragging out the word with suspicion. "So, it has  nothing to do with you and Sandesh’s latest quarrel? I heard Jared has taken up a new student. You know, since I’ve graduated.”

Blake's head snapped up. "What?" He knew exactly who Will was talking about.

“I find it funny , you two always bickering. Jared says Peter and I behave like a married couple, but we might have to hand down the crown.”

Blake felt his cheeks warming. "It's just… coincidence."

The crackling fire was the only sound for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken feelings. Finally, Will broke it.

"Alright, fine. Be that way," he said with a shrug. “But all I’m saying is that I know a thing or two about this.”

“Why can’t we just be really good friends?” Blake leaned back on his hands. "It’s nothing serious.”

“I like that. Really good friends. Pretending like you don’t care. Like you never cared.” Will mocked. “How does that work out for you? Pretty well so far if Sandesh is completely ignoring you-”

“Fuck off.” Blake rolled his eyes dramatically, face crumbling into his hands.

He looked at Blake, anticipation bubbling in his chest. He wanted Blake to be happy, to understand. The fire crackled again, a small piece of wood collapsing in on itself .

“I’m bad at it.” He admitted to Will. “Not all of us get so lucky.”

“Is that what we are calling it? Luck?”

“How ‘bout fate?” Blake suggested. “That a better word for it? Or destiny?”

Will let out an exaggerated groan, head thrown back. “Please, I’m gonna pass out right here if I hear one more person talk about-”

Blake knocked his knee against Will's. “Soulmates? True Love?”

“Nonsense.”

“You’re living in a fairytale.” Blake reminded. “We all are. I don’t think it’s that farfetched.”

“What is?” Will asked. “True Love?”

The smile Blake held split his face. It was the kind of smile Will would kill to earn again. Before he could reply, however, a boy started sprinting their way. He was shouting. Felix was shouting.

Will sprang up to his feet along with Blake. “What is it? Slow down! Slow down! What’s going on?!”

“There’s-” He began, only to heave once more. He settled his hands on his knees, gesturing wildly behind him. “Girl.. beach... here... there’s-”

Felix didn’t get to finish, because Will swiftly grabbed his gun, cocked it, and spun it around into his belt.

“Where?!” He asked, watching all the other boys leap up with curiosity.

Sandesh and Jared locked their eyes on Felix. Jah’sir struck himself up as Blake called for Pan. Pan was nowhere to be seen.

“Beach.” Felix directed, watching Will sprint past him.

Chapter Text

“Do you think Mom will be better today?” Addie asked. “I made her breakfast this morning. I dunno if she ate it.”

5 years ago, the woman they call mom would become a meth-addicted stranger. Before that, William and Addie wait for the city bus in the dark hour of 5 am to take them across town to their school. Their mom hasn’t eaten much beyond the middle of the night snacks she buys from gas stations. 13-year-old William likes going on those trips with her. They feel like an adventure. Plus, he gets slushy, so he can hardly complain.

But when William doesn’t reply, Addie, younger by only a year, continues in the silence.

“I think she’s just... having a rough patch.”

“Is that what we are calling it?” He replied, looking across the road for the bus.  

“She said she was trying!” She insisted. “Remember when she made pancakes last week? They were burnt but... it was something.”

“Yeah, burnt and with balsamic vinegar.” He replied off-handedly, spotting the bright white lights glittering down the road. “And if by something you mean a fire hazard in our kitchen, next time we should just call the fire department ahead of time.”

“At least we’d get free pancakes out of it.”

William cracks a smile despite himself. “Yeah, but I don’t think they serve those at the firehouse.”

“We could ask them to deliver?”

William leans against the street light pole. “Right, let’s add pancake delivery to their list of emergency services.”

A silence falls over them, thick as the morning fog rolling away.

“She has to want to get better for us… right?” Addie said softly.

Will thought for a moment about most things their mother has done these past months. All the moments of laughter, singing songs in the car, 2am talks about what they would do if they won the lottery, watching movies while folding laundry. It made all the bad memories feel smaller and lighter. And the worst memories are darker and more hidden. Like maybe if he didn’t see them, they didn’t happen at all.

“Love doesn’t always come with instructions.” Will decided on. “Sometimes it gets lost in translation… like her food lately.”

His sister smiles faintly. “Well, at least you can still avoid it.”

Before Will could begin to register a reply, the bus creeped closer, screeching to a halt before casting the doors open with a soft hiss.

“Look alive!” He said with a grin, turning to pluck his backpack off the sidewalk. “Ready for another day of pretending everything's fine?”

Addie followed him aboard. “Always! And who knows? Maybe today will be the day Mom surprises us.”

He scoffs. “Or maybe it'll just be another day of asking if she will show up. Spoiler alert: probably not.”

The city bus doors clattered shut before they could settle beside each other.

🟈🟈🟈

Will was only 13 when his mother gave birth to his half-sister. 13 and clueless. Clueless to the fact that this heaving, pink creature wailing in his arms would be his undoing.

“We’re okay,” he always told them, eyes filled with tears, but mouth smiling. They knew they weren’t, but the look gave them hope. “How big is your brave?” He asked, a playful smirk on his face. They smiled back.

“So big!” They both jump into his arms.

Those midnight eyes were painted an infinite brown. He would drown himself in those eyes when they swelled with tears. Those clenched fists would reach for him during the loud nights. They would fit around his two fingers, and he would tuck her soft brown hair under his chin. He would wipe her bottom and her tears. Her father would provide them with food, but it was William who fed her. And he would grow to resent Rob for it.

Will was 17 when his bare feet reached the outer edge of the forest, where sand meets soil, and he freezes.

Sand clutches at her long, tangled brown hair. It covered her like lace, drowning her with its length. Will remembered having to hold her head still when he or Addie brushed it. The sparkling bow and her bright smile made the pain of it worth in the end.

Suddenly he feels tears in his eyes, heavy and welcome. She looks up at him and they fall. Oh, do they fall. His heart screams at him that it’s an illusion. His mind clutches at any memory it can. This face, his mind tells him, we know this face. It’s older. She’s older. And Will’s ribcage feels too tight to hold his lungs or his heart.

Her voice pierces through the ocean waves crashing around her.

“Will!” Claire screams, stumbling to her feet. Her clothes are soaked and her hair is matted and her ivory skin is pink and plastered and and and…

She sprints toward him, saying his name over and over. He can hear the boys rustling behind him. It doesn’t matter to him. Nothing matters at all. He finds his feet and bolts toward her, crushing Claire into an embrace that has them both falling to the ground.

This isn’t real, he thinks. This is a trick. She can’t be here.

But she sobs into his shoulder, and he holds her like he can hide away the sound. Like he can hide her away from the sun, the island, the world.

“I knew it!” She speaks. “I knew it! I knew you were here!”

The Lost Boys take his original place, crowding at the outer edge of the forest, stepping closer in shock. One boy dares to approach them, catching Will’s gaze. There’s no smile on Peter’s face. There’s no smirk or even an indifferent frown. His mouth is parted, his eyes wide. He looks like nothing.

Will found his voice, no matter how much it broke. “Claire,” He began, trying to peel the child off him.

She held on tighter, insistent. “I’m sorry!” She shook her head against Will’s neck. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for not listening.” 

She hid herself in the crook of his neck. Will watched as the knob squeaked and yanked back and forth, somebody trying to get inside.

The memory flickers in his mind like frames of a video. He looked up at the boys, who all held the same confused expression. Felix kept glancing at Peter, waiting for him to do something, anything. He doesn’t. He is practically frozen, watching Will hold his sister. The one Peter took him from.

He can’t bring himself to continue looking at Peter. Will should be the one in disbelief. Was this Pan’s doing? Was this his final straw? Was this some conflicting way of making sure Will stays with him? Hasn’t he proven to him that he wants to stay? Hasn’t he proven to Will that he trusts him?

“What are you doing here?” Will asked, gently brushing through her long brown hair with his fingers.

She looks up at last, her bright brown eyes endless and full of hope.

 “I wished for you!” She exclaimed.

“What?!”

“I wished to see you, and the fairy took me here!”

“What fairy-”

Claire doesn’t give him the chance. She holds him again, tighter than before. Like she is scared that if she lets go, he will be gone forever. Not Pan then. He should have known Peter wouldn’t pull this shit. He keeps a steady hand on her cheek when he peels away from her.

 “Bear, this is important-”

“You were gone forever,” she says. “I told them you were hiding. I knew it. I knew it. I told them, but they didn’t believe me.”

He rose to his feet, scooping her up with him. She was heavier than she was before, but he was stronger than before.

“This is super important.” He insists again. “What color was the fairy, bear?”

The furrow in her brows tells Will she doesn’t understand why such a thing is important. She thinks about it regardless. A delicate silence falls as Peter and Will watch with bated breath.

“Blue.” She answered.

His heart sinks. A sharp piercing in his head begins at his temples. This isn’t his feeling alone. He looks at Peter. His face has fallen further than before. His still green eyes that haven’t stopped staring at Claire look up at Will for the first time. Will’s jaw sets when Peter’s gaze turns hard and cold. Up his walls go, built up his armor becomes. Malcolm was gone. Pan arrived to see this fight through.

He acts fast, snapping his gaze to the boys who crowd around them.

“Back to camp!” Pan suddenly snapped. “All of you! Will, you’re with me.”

“I’m walking.” He replies, adjusting Claire to hold her akin to a koala clinging around his neck and waist. He pivots her on his hip and strides toward the forest.

“We need to-” Peter calls after him.

“This is not a discussion, Peter.” He barked at Peter, eyes wild and frozen. “I’m walking. You can wait.”

He knows this is not Peter’s fault. He wouldn’t allow this. Perhaps he would. Will doesn’t know. He can’t think. A million reasons purge his mind to explain why his sister was here. Why did she wish for him? How did she know where he was? Did Claire tell Blue to take her to Will? Why was Blue with Claire?

Peter’s face hardens quickly. Will doesn’t pretend not to see it. Fuck how he feels, Will thought. This is my sister. Not his. She doesn’t belong to him. She doesn’t belong on this island. He leaves Peter on the beach.

 Each plant and branch had more thorns than he thought they did. The ground had more sharp rocks, more branches uprooted and ripe for tripping. The island grew darker as clouds dusted the sky in shades of gray. The air was too cold, and the east wind left a chill against Will’s cheek.

He clutched Claire tighter.

Chapter Text

Sometimes when he was in a certain mood, he would catch himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked at his imperfect pink lips and square jaw sprinkled with thin black hair. He crept up his nose, not significant in any noticeable way. His eyebrows, full and untamed. His eyes, the sharpest shade of blue he's ever seen. He sometimes cuts himself with those eyes. If he stares just a moment longer, he will get lost. And he does. He does get lost. His face deforms, and his hair is bigger, his mouth is smaller, and his eyes unchanging. A person stares back at him, but he doesn’t recognize them.

They are sad. Their frame is wider, bulkier, covered in nameless scars, self-inflicted and not. They are a fighter, and the boy watching is a coward. The boy who came to this island was a coward who ran from their home and ran from the cops, and ran from love and opportunity to grow and change. They ran from responsibility and drowned themselves in drugs and pain and hopelessness. They gave up but clung to the sliver of hope that a merciful god was watching over him and would grant a miracle for him and his family to be whole again.

Was that what he wished for? He thought, blinking away from his reflection. Was he wishing for an escape? Or was he wishing for a family? A house not so broken that they couldn’t piece themselves back together again into some semblance of a happy family. Was that not what this island was to him now? Did he not get his wish?

He glanced down at the sink basin, the faucet dripping droplets of water every few seconds, never completely dry. He closed his eyes and listened for the sound. Drip… Drip… Drop. Drip… Drip… Drop. Drip… Drip…

He waited, matching his breathing with each fallen-

Drop.  

Echoing voices called from beyond the wooden door shut tight beside him. Beyond that threshold was Peter’s bedroom. Beyond Peter’s bedroom was the main floor. Beyond the camp, the forest, the island. The beach, the ocean, the ocean, the ocean.

Drip… Drip… Drop.

His knuckles turn white under his iron grip. He leans on the polished basin like it holds his entire being. A scream began to bubble under his jaw, trembling under his lips. No matter how hard he bit his tongue, the beast grew larger and louder. His ears began to ring.

Drip Drip… Drip Drip… Drop Drop.

He couldn’t notice the harshness of his breathing or the weakness in his legs. When he fell to the floor, the voices never stopped talking. They didn’t hear the crash. They didn’t hear Will. Will couldn’t hear them. His head leaned against the wall, chest heaving violently. He bit his tongue again, the pain being the only thing keeping him present.

Drip Drip… Drip Drip… Drop Drop.

He heard footsteps. Clattered boots became louder and louder. Each step pierced knives into his eyes and temples. He gripped his hair and pulled like he could rip out those knives. His chest wouldn’t stop moving, and each breath didn’t catch enough air, and he was suffocating. He was dying. He was poisoned.

The floor spiked a chilling sensation against his forehead. He floated there, hearing the door attempt to open. His feet were in the way, but he hardly had the strength to move. The intruder pushed his way through anyway.

Tilting his jaw up, Will gazed up at his mother.

His mother.

No, this isn’t right.

He blinked and found himself back against the basin, staring back into those lifeless blue eyes.

Drip… Drip…

Will turned off the faucet.

🟈🟈🟈

The table in Pan’s cabin is much less a table and more of a plank of wood placed upon two barrels at both heads. At one head sits Claire, who is stuck coloring on scraps of parchment paper with mild amusement. At the other head stands Felix, Peter, Peter’s Shadow, and Will, all looking over at Claire with bewildered interest. The small child either didn’t notice the swarm of boys or did and hardly cared. Occasionally, she held up the drawing and called for Will’s opinion.

Entirely lost, Felix takes a seat at the end of the table. “I thought the shadow could only bring children to the island.” He spoke.

After a brief silence, the Shadow’s rasp cut through the air. “Seems like Mother Superior is hiding some of her talent.”

“She’s a fairy with the ability to grant wishes.” Pan corrected.

“Are we sure this was Blue and not Fiona?” Will voiced, standing behind a seated Peter.

“Fiona is incapable of reaching the mainland.” The shadow explained.

“Yeah, well, Fiona was also incapable of reaching Neverland, and she still found a way.”

“What would Claire being here accomplish?” Peter thought out loud, bringing his knuckle to his mouth in deep thought. His eyes were dark green storms focused on a single point on the table, unable to look anywhere near Claire.

“You tried to unveil her?” The shadow asked Peter.

The dirty blonde sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Tried. Nothing. It’s either Claire or a damn good concealing spell.”

“It’s Claire.” Will’s voice demanded.

“Fiona masked herself as Wendy Darling and tried to destroy you with the island.” His shadow reminded me. “Forgive me if I don’t trust your gut feeling, Will.”

“They’re right,” Felix interjected. “They know more about this kind of magic.”

“I’ll work on a stronger substitute,” Pan said offhandedly.

“You are not drugging my sister.” Will snapped.

“It’s not a drug!”

“She’s 8!”

“How did she get here?” Felix asked again.

“She told us. Blue took her here.” Peter said, getting increasingly impatient.

“No, Blue granted a wish.” Will corrected.

Felix’s icy gaze became fixed on the child sitting across the table.

“How did you get here?” He asked, not bothering to conceal the irritation in his voice.

Claire looked up from her mildly colorful drawing. Then, she looked over at Will, mouth shut tight. Her silence was too loud for the tension in the room.

“Bear, this is very important.” Will assured her. “How did you get on the island?”

“I wished for you.” She answered quickly.

“We know you did, but how?” Felix demanded again.

Claire set her hands in her lap and froze her expression, eyes big and lips shut. Nothing would be pried out.

Gently, Will approached Claire. “Did you fly?” He asked in a sing-song voice like he was telling her a story. “Did you appear here? Sleep and wake up?”

She shook her head. “I dreamt about it. The fairy helped me.”

“What did you wish?” He asked again, voice soft as flower petals, eyes firm and full of warmth.

Felix’s voice cut through the softness like a scythe. “She already told us a hundred times-”

“Felix, shut your mouth.” Peter barked, stunning the room and Claire into silence once more.

Peter’s cold and calculating gaze snapped to Claire, who sat wide-eyed and still. He must have sensed her startle because then he said in a much quieter tone:

“What did you wish for?”

Claire’s gaze fluttered to Will, who nodded encouragingly at her. She looked back at Peter, who hadn’t blinked since sitting down. “To be with my brother again.”

A silence spilled into the room once more. Peter finally blinked, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Felix huffed out a held breath of air in frustration. The Shadow remained still. It lay over them like a thick wool blanket. Will could feel Peter’s gaze lodged in the back of his skull.

Before anyone else could interject, Will rose to his feet. “That’s enough. We’ll go speak with Blue about it.”

“Pixie Hollow has been unusually quiet since her arrival back.” Peter agreed. “I doubt an audience with her will be easy.”

Claire’s bright brown eyes lit up in surprise when Will reached to pick her up. “We’re gonna see the fairy again?”

Felix followed up despite the hand Pan shot out to signal him to sit back down.

“You aren’t seriously going to take her with you when you confront Mother Superior.” He said.

Will pivoted the child onto his back. “All due respect, Felix: you don’t trust my gut, I don’t trust your babysitting skills. You stay here and make sure everything stays in order. We should be back by the evening with a plan.”

Pan approached the two, gazing once or twice over Will’s shoulder at the nest of long brown hair nuzzled into his neck.

“You got me?”

Will sighed and nodded. “I got you. You got me?”

He nodded, settling his hand on his arm and squeezing it, before walking past him. “Always.”

Will adjusted Claire’s legs around his back, and with a blink, they appeared outside Pixie Hollow.  

Chapter Text

“Blue.” Will’s voice cuts through the echoing room with tall ceilings. His words were ice compared to the warm light of the room. Behind him, Claire bolts toward the altered fairy.

She turns to face them, steeling her expression into a semblance of composure when she sees the small child. All the while, she kneels elegantly to the floor and smiles at her. Like old acquaintances, they speak, and it makes Will’s stomach churn with nausea.

“Hello, child.” She says with a strained grin. Her eyes flicker up to the towering boys behind the 8-year-old. She rises with tranquility. “Peter Pan. Will.” She addresses. “Good to see you.”

She is met with two tight jaws and glaring eyes. Peter stands on Will’s left, fists clenched beside his hips. Will stands with his arms crossed. The only reason he doesn’t deck her right here is for lack of balls, not lack of reason. He granted any physical violence toward her to Pan.

Still, she smiles. “I trust you have made good use of the artillery bestowed upon you, Will?”

How could she smile like that, Will thought. She was caught. She should be trembling in fear and begging for at least Peter’s forgiveness. He hadn't any memory of people telling him Blue had brought kids to Neverland before. If anything, this was a clear act of seniority.

Sensing their abundant hostility, she crouches down once more and whispers something delicately into Claire’s ear. The brunette nods and is guided by a manicured finger to play with three other children just her age. She crosses to the other end of the room, and Blue’s smile melts like ice on hot cement.

“Why is she here?” Peter wastes no time.

The fairy is very still and silent. She blinks with a breath. “She wished to-”

“I know she wished to see me. Why were you hanging around her?” Will barks at her, his voice echoing once more off the wallpaper. “This could have been avoided-”

“She needs to leave.” Peter cuts in.

She sighs, gathering her thin hands together ahead of her stomach. “I’m afraid that’s not possible-”

“The hell it’s not!”

“You will let me finish!” She snarls, stunning them both into silence. “It is not possible without Will leaving with her.”

Blake’s white smile, Jah sir’s loud voice, Sandesh’s laugh, Devin’s handwriting, Jared’s inappropriate jokes, Felix’s side glances between shared jokes, Peter’s hands, his voice, his eyes-

“What?” Will says, but he could hardly hear himself. He doubted anyone else could hear him.

His head swivels to Peter, whose tight jaw was dropped. His eyes are wide and glaring. His chest rises and falls faster with every passing second.

“She didn’t wish for that,” Peter states, voice considerably lower. “She wished to be with Will.”

Blue, seemingly unaffected by their reaction, sighs. “She never stated how long.”

“She’s a child!” Someone shouts. Will only realizes when Blue’s shocked eyes lay on him that it was him.

“And so are you!” She demanded back. She snaps back at Peter. “I will not entertain this false reality any longer, Peter.”

Will couldn’t help the disbelieving smile. His head began to pulse with pain. Maybe he did have the balls to knock her off her feet. “What false reality?”

The only thing that stops him, he recalls, was the fear in Peter’s face. Those bright green eyes were paralyzed. His mouth closed, and looks like his entire body was adjusting to her statement. He had seen this move before but never had he seen such fear.

He speaks clearly and in a breathy whisper. “You will lift the wish and take her back home-”

She doesn’t sway. “I’m not the one keeping her here, Peter.” She draws her cards and waits for Peter to fold.

He couldn’t help it. “What false reality?” He asked again.

“And I am not asking,” Peter says again. He doubles down.

Blue shakes her head. She leaves the table, but who won the game?  “I will not be bullied by you. You will not tear your way into my home and demand action from me. I am finished with this conversation.”

“She needs to leave!” Peter shouts at her again, watching as she walks toward the open door.

She turns with inhuman speed and speaks with venom in her voice, “Why? She wants to be here! Is that not what you want?”

Will watches the guards standing guard on either side of the door, the guards at each corner, reach for their swords.

“This direct connection with William and his family? His past?”

“I don’t see an issue, Peter. He remembers more than any Lost Boy ever has. And he still chose to be with you here. He now has his family here-”

All eyes are on them, including Claire's.

“The other boys don’t!” His voice shakes the room.

“And who made that happen?”

And Will is left, not with the light of Peter’s eyes, but with shadows of his silence. The echoes of her laughter are the tolling bells of a funeral, mourning the death of what Will thought was real. Each word, a dose of poison, slowly seeping into the soil. And Will, so busy worrying about Claire, didn't notice the wilting within Peter.

“If you want her to leave so badly, take her home yourself.” She says.

Each whispered "home" was a hammer blow to his foundation, building a temple on quicksand. This couldn’t happen. Peter showed him the pulse of the earth, and in that pulse, he felt his own heart beating, alive again.

“You won’t, will you? Because you know Will won’t rest until Claire is happy. And Claire will never be truly happy without her brother back. She will keep dreaming and wishing. And soon she will grow resentful. Soon she will hate Will for abandoning her.”

And here's the door, Will thinks, swinging open. Before he knows it, he crosses the room and picks Claire off the floor and into his arms. She fights him, but not for long. Soon, she hides in Will’s neck when he makes his way back to Peter.

“This was a mistake, coming here,” Will says to Peter, not bothering if Blue hears him.

She insisted, not taking her eyes off Peter, but gestured to the brunette. “And Will? Will he rest? Will he be content with the memory of his sister being ripped away from him again? By you?”

Denial is a warm blanket, isn't it? Pulled up to your chin, blocking out the harsh reality of what he did, of what you think you deserve. Will still glares at her, too busy defending Peter, making excuses, polishing the chains that bind him.

She shakes her head at their silence, turning around to Will. “William, you told me about Claire in the first place… but do not blame yourself. She wished for her family back long before I ever granted anything.”

And when she shuts the door, the only thing crossing is mind is the falling of Peter’s face.

She offered you a lifeline, a racing thought screams, a chance to swim to shore, and you’re drowning in the shallows, clinging to the anchor that’s dragging you down. Wake up! Wake up before the anger consumes you, before the door slams shut again, before you become so used to the darkness you forget what the sun feels like.

Chapter Text

"You know, William, sometimes I wonder if I even know your mother anymore.”

Robert grips the stirring wheel with white knuckles, eyes hard and focused on the busy road ahead.

“I do.” He replies quietly.

“So, tell me something.” He said quickly. “What’s going on with her lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” He asks, scoffing harshly, signaling to turn. “What do I mean? You live here, don't you? You see it. The sneaking around. The hushed phone calls. The way she jumps when I walk into a room. She never used to be like this.”

The car jerked aggressively to the right. Will watched the cars around them. Rob is a good driver, but he could be… overconfident. “I don't know, Robert. She seemed okay getting ready for work this morning, I guess. I'm not sure anything happened after that.”

“Oh, sure, play innocent. You know, a good son would actually pay attention. Do you even talk to her? Or are you too busy locked in your room writing those stories?”

He let himself disregard the obvious jab toward his work. What else was he supposed to do besides smoking weed and scrolling on his phone?

“We talk sometimes,” Will replied.

“About what? What does she say? Does she ever mention me?”

His throat suddenly feels too dry to speak, to breathe. “Not really.”

Robert’s hand strikes the center console, not bothering to notice Will flinching back. “See! That’s what I mean! It’s all so secretive! Like I’m some kind of outsider in my own damn house! After everything I’ve done for her, for you!”

Will swallowed back any witty reply. He could very easily become that console. “Maybe she's just... stressed at work.”

“Work. What work? Don't be naive, William. You think I'm stupid? Do you think I can't see what's going on? There's always some excuse with you two. Sara can do no wrong.”

“No, I didn't mean that!” He said quickly. “I just... I don't know.”

“You don't know. That’s always your answer.”

William sighs, suddenly finding the venom in his own voice. “She says you work really hard.”

“You think I'm being too hard on her?”

He knows what to say to that. Despite it, he recites the same speech he has been reciting these past few tormenting weeks. “No, of course not. I think you're right to be... concerned.”

“Someone has to be.” He smiles then, full of chewing tobacco and saccharine. “She needs to understand that I won't tolerate being kept in the dark. It's disrespectful. It's a slap in the face after everything I've done. And you should be concerned about that, too, William, because it affects you as well. You’re so naive, William. So blind. Just like she wants you to be. You need to open your eyes. And you need to tell me what's going on. Because if she’s trying to pull something, I deserve to know. I deserve the truth.

He could barely hear him. He could barely listen, too busy keeping the wetness in his eyes from spilling over. “I will. I promise. If I hear anything, I’ll tell you.”

Robert nods, seemingly appeased but still watchful. “Good. You do that. Because family is about honesty, William. Honesty and respect. And your mother seems to have forgotten that. Now, maybe you can remind her. Are you going to remind her?”

“I’ll try.”

Robert pulls into the driveway. He switches off the engine. The silence returns, heavier this time. William opens the door and practically bolts out of the car.

The older man calls after him, his voice softer now, but still with an edge. “Don't forget what we talked about, Will. Honesty. I'm counting on you.”

He nods with a weak smile, slamming the car door shut and walking quickly inside.

🟈🟈🟈

Will doesn’t remember when he set down Claire. He doesn’t remember her running behind the couch, peeking up between the brown cushions. His vision can’t focus on anything; it falters and flickers around the room. He waits for it to blink away. It doesn’t. It stays. Everything stays. Peter stills ahead of him, hands helplessly open beside him. He looks too small for this room, this island, this world.

“Why would she say that, Peter?” His voice cracked in his closing throat.

Peter doesn’t look at him, watching the brown cushion Claire hid behind. He looks at the floor, the walls, he looks at nothing. He looks drained of any life and love provided over the past few days. He shifted after a minute, finally acknowledging Will but never truly looking directly at him at all.

“Say what?” Peter said.

“A false reality.” He says, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. “What is she talking about?”

A breath leaves Peter, and he rubs his eyes. Then his temples.

“I don’t know.” He replied.

A sudden rush of water swells in his eyes. A rabid animal rages against the enclosure bars, and Will shouts. “Yes, you do! Peter, what the fuck is she talking about?”

He snaps his gaze back at Will, seemingly offended at Will swearing in front of the child. “About Claire leaving.” He insists through bared teeth.

His fist swings, and before he can stop it, the side of his hand slams against the wood and sends thunder across the wall. “Stop lying to me!”

It shuns him into a stunning silence. Peter watches like a child accused of stealing a piece of candy. The real child hides frozen behind furniture a few feet away.  

“I’ll ask you again,” Will says, voice low and breathy. “What is she talking about?”

The words sit heavy on his tongue, like stones gathered by a restless sea. Peter could sculpt a different story, a smooth, polished pebble of a lie, one that fits neatly in Will’s hand, and keeps him anchored here, beside him.

He wanted to lie to Will. It would be easier to lie to him. It would have holes and questions. It would be selfish, but he could lie. His mind paints pictures of a summer sky, endless blue, where they walked, hand-in-hand, and the sun warmed promises on their skin. That's the lie he could whisper, a gentle breeze rustling through leaves, masking the storm gathering within.

But his heart, a deeper, older thing, knows the earth demands its honesty. It feels the tremor before the mountain shifts, the subtle change in the air before the rain. To hold him here with falsehood is to build a house on sinking sand. The truth is what Will deserves.

“You,” Peter says.

“What about me?”

Like the first fragile sprout pushing through the snow, or the raw beauty of a rock face exposed. The breaking will be a kind of blooming, a painful, necessary unfolding.

“Your heart. It…” He stops, unable to look at Will. “I needed it.”

“For the island.”

The change is swift, like lightning splitting the sky.

“Peter, tell me you needed it for the island.” Will pleads. “Tell me you took it from me because the island was-"

Peter’s voice cuts through him, bitter and as venomous as dreamshade. He watches the storm thunder in Will’s eyes.

“The island was never dying…” He confessed. “We were fine without you.”

Will’s breath picks up, he grits his teeth, tears start to swell. The air between them is thick with unspoken lines, the silence a carefully constructed dam, holding back a flood of things unsaid, unfelt.

“And the rest?”

He speaks like the words mean nothing at all. “What else is there?”

“The boys?” His voice strikes, unleashing the dam. “They-they were going to die if I left. Why- Blue thinks I can leave, and they will be fine. Is that…”

Peter doesn’t answer. The words he needed to speak were lodged, heavy and sharp, like stones in his throat.

“Say something!” Will roars.

“I needed you to stay.” He said quickly. “You wouldn’t stop trying to leave.”

He saw the trust in Will’s eyes shatter like glass, each shard reflecting the ugliness of the truth he had hidden.

“So, you lied to me? To the boys? To everyone?”

“I was going to talk to you about-”

“Devin is dead, Peter! He is dead because of me! Because I told him- because I thought I could-” Peter watches the brunette stumble under the weight of himself.  “My family. My girls. My mom. Every… I thought…”

Peter approaches him gently, extending a hand out. “Will…”

“Get away.” He says, his voice broken and muffled under his hand. He turns away, physically unable to be any nearer.

Peter takes another hesitant step closer, his knuckle brushing against Will’s shoulder.

He snaps Peter’s hand away and shoves him back, face red with tears. “Get away from me!”

“Will!”

He extends a trembling finger, his voice echoing off the thin wooden walls. He spoke rapidly with sudden mania.

“You lied to me! You… I… I fell for it! All of it! I thought I was protecting them. I thought I was keeping you safe. I’m nothing. I’m nothing to them. To you.”

“That’s not true, Will,” Peter says, scrambling for spare threads of hope that he can preserve this.

“Who am I if I can’t… It’s my job! My entire life, I’ve been protecting them and loving them and raising them. I gave them what I never could have, and I thought I could help them. I thought I could protect them. I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid. You told me they were safe! Was that a lie too?!”

“No!” Peter shouted back, watching Will turn his back on Peter. “No, I showed you the truth of it! They were fine without you, Will.”

Within a split second, Peter is staring down the barrel of a gun. Peter feels his heart jump into his throat. He swallows his sudden surprise and stares back at Will, eyes dark and engulfed by rage. The end teases him from inches away, shaking terribly in the hand of Will. Still, his finger holds the trigger. He doesn’t shoot.

“Put the gun down, Will,” Peter says calmly.

In the corner of Peter’s eye, he spots a tuft of brown hair, eyes peek out from behind the sofa. He glances over at her, catching her wide, brown eyes, struck frozen with fear. He hoped Will would notice where his gaze moved over to, but the gun stayed trembling ahead of his face.

Looking back, Peter raised his hand slowly in the air. In a small second, he swiped one hand to enclose around Will’s wrist, the other ripping the gun from his hand. Violence ensued quickly after that.

The gun fell to the floor with a crack. Will’s other hand rose to wrap Peter’s throat. They wrestled against each other, no doubt looking as childish as they felt. Each time Will lunged for the gun, Peter tore him back with a hand in his hair. Will wouldn’t be separated so easily, throwing uncoordinated punches against Peter’s gut, scratching his throat and arms.  

Eventually, Will had had enough, pivoting entirely to straddle Peter to the wooden floor. Between his thighs, Peter’s body shoved and kicked. With one hand, a move Jared taught him, he held both Peter’s hands to the floor. The other, coiling tightly around his neck. He fought back, quickly giving in and attempting got use his power to shove Will off of him.

It wouldn’t work. Each thought was suppressed and blocked. Will was stronger than him. At least for this moment.

“Is this what you wanted?” He snarled, watching his struggling weaken. “This power? My heart? You can have it. You can have it and be alone.”

Peter’s eyes quickly became distant. Despite the choking breaths, his body became limp as he gave in. Will felt the force behind his palms soften considerably. But he wasn’t unconscious. Will could see him blinking and coughing under him. He could feel his heartbeat pulse under his hand.

He ripped his hand away, watching Peter gasp for air. He stood up, watching Peter follow him up.

“We swore no more lies. But… You just couldn’t help yourself.” He said, shaking his head. “Fiona was right! It’s all you do.”

Peter, remembering his power, extends his hand out. A force as powerful as a thick wall pushes Will back. The desk holding glass vials and scattered paper snaps and breaks against Will, falling with him to the floor.

Shattered glass pierces through his skin, wood splinters and snaps, and papers are torn. Claire bolts across the room toward him but meets the back of Will’s hand before she can even reach for him.

The scream, a wild and sharp scream, strikes the room as she falls to the ground. Will couldn’t even blink before realizing what he had done. He forgets Peter entirely, the hand that slapped Claire, frozen and bleeding.

She looks up, holding her rosy cheek, trying not to cry but failing. The tears fall from her eyes, but she makes no sound. She dares to look at Will and flinches back when he moves toward her.

There was no shouting below the treehouse. No boys were laughing or hollering. The wind whipped around the treehouse with a whistle. The only sound they could hear. Peter and Will were locked, frozen in place, both watching Claire and her trembling lip.

Will recoils, holding the hand that hurt her. The ringing in his head screamed. This wasn’t about Peter, he reminded himself. This was about Claire. He looked up at Peter, who looked just as shocked as he did. He didn’t say a word. Not until he saw Will stand and disappear entirely. He called after him, and the noise frightened Claire further.

He looked down at her. She looked up at him, eyes wide and unsure. He’s indifferent, and she’s terrified.

He steps forward, ignoring how she tensed and scrambled back. Slowly, he crouched down, scooped her up, and carried her behind the curtain.