It was three days after the Shadow's visit that I finally went back to the mountain.
The weather in Neverland was nearly a constant ray of sunshine and clear skies. It rarely rained, however that morning was cold and dreary as I trudged along the beach.
Reluctantly, I had left the ship behind as I swung over the rails and landed on the sand below. For the past three days, I had paced back and forth on the ship's deck trying to make a decision.
I knew I couldn't avoid Peter forever - it was an impossible task - but I wasn't ready to see him. However, I knew I couldn't drag this out any further. We needed to talk.
The climb up the mountain was easier than the first time I'd done it. My hands were now callused under the sharp mountain rocks and the rough wood of trees and branches in the jungle. The island and I were becoming one.
Just before I reached the peak where the cave was, I stopped and sat on the slope, pondering over my restless thoughts.
Did I really want to do this? I could always turn around and head back to the ship, waiting it out a few more days. Peter would never know.
I sighed. Running from my problems was never something I'd enjoyed.
Pulling myself up, I reached the flat surface of the mountain's peak where the cave sat in the centre. No movement came from inside and so I took a step forward.
It was early morning, the sun barely caressing the east horizon. Despite the lack of sunshine, heat still radiated off the tropical island as magic hummed through the roots beneath the ground. This place was becoming more alive with each passing day. I wondered how much Peter had to do with it.
Cautiously, I approached the cave entrance. My footsteps crackled against the dirt and rock of the volcanic surface but I was quiet in my step. Reaching the cave's mouth, I saw no movement from inside.
I nearly breathed out a sigh of relief as I entered the open room. Peter wasn't here.
A pale glow began to creep up the west wall of the stone cavern as the sun rose. The golden light and silence of the island transported the cave into a dreamland. It was as though time had stopped, only ticking with each beat of my nervous heart. Playing, taunting the limits of time against my lifeline.
My gentle footsteps were the only thing that could be heard as I moved further into the room. The pit of furs that made up mine and Peter's bed in the centre of the room was empty. The stone table to the left was abandoned. It was as though the island was teasing me with its own deception of loneliness.
I came to a stop in the centre of the room, looking around. Why was the cave empty? Why did everything feel so distant? It was as though I was underwater, my heavy mind weighing me down.
It was early. There was still time to turn back and pretend I was never her-
The gentle feeling of lips on the back of my neck broke me free from my dreamscape. My body reacted instinctively as my skin shuddered under the heated touch and I became tense.
Fingers danced up my spine, pinching the bottom of my neck as a brush of air tickled my skin. I heard the smile before I saw it.
"I missed you." Peter Pan said.
Turning around, I exhaled as my hair fell over my eyes. "Peter."
Peter said, "You came back to me." His eyes danced.
"I-"
Peter cupped my face in his delicate hands. They were soft and pale compared to my sun-glazed skin. His finger grazed my teeth as he ran it over my mouth and hummed in a sweet symphony of satisfaction.
"You're home." he said. It was simple, as if he'd simply recovered a missing possession.
It had only been ten days but for Peter and I, that was a lifetime without seeing each other. The last time I'd seen him it had been dark. Now he was golden in the soft rays of the dawning sun. It bled over his skin like an angel's kiss from the heavens. Looking away was impossible.
I gently lowered Peter's hands away from my face and stepped back. "Peter, we need to talk."
He nodded, the smile dropping from his handsome features as he said, "Yes, I suppose we should."
A moment of silence passed between us. I tried to decide where to start. Peter waited patiently. I cut the wound open.
"You brought a child to Neverland."
He nodded. "I did."
"Without telling me."
"I did."
"You lied to me."
"I did."
And it was all so easy. The words fell off his tongue and hung suspended in the air, growing more intense with each shuddering breath I took.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "How could you do that?"
Peter flicked his fingers and glanced up at me. It was innocent and gentle, as though he didn't understand my confusion.
"Do what?" he asked.
I stared, gobsmacked. "You kidnapped a child and brought him to Neverland, Peter! How could you?"
Realisation dawned on him, as though it was a lost sunrise before. "There was never any callousness, James. He wanted to be here. I simply showed him the path."
"There is another child. On the island."
"Yes." Peter said, though it sounded like a question.
"Peter, he has to go home!"
"Why?" Peter asked, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. As if the question was so simple that there was no point in asking it.
"Why?" I echoed in shock. "Because he has to go home!"
"He didn't like his home. I gave him a new one." Peter said, confused.
My feet moved backwards and I backed away from him, shocked. How could he not see? How could he not understand?
"We haven't seen each other in days," I began. "And in that time, didn't you wonder how that came to be?"
Peter stepped towards me. Involuntarily I stepped back, watching my friend carefully. "Y-you have to have w-wondered why I didn't come back."
Peter continued his approach. It was as if he wasn't moving at all but the world was tilting on its axis to push me towards him. Everything in the room was focused on him.
I continued moving backwards and gasped when my back hit the stone wall behind me. My eyes widened as Peter stood before me. "Peter, don't you w-want to k-know."
I gasped when Peter's hand was at my throat. Long, slender fingers curled around the base of my neck as pale skin blended into golden. His hands were cold but my skin burned under his touch.
His dark eyes gleamed as he tilted his head upwards to look at me from under his fringe. Nothing about the curl of his lips was comforting and for the first time ever, I felt myself wary in the presence of Peter.
His hand slid up my throat and grasped my chin in a firm hold. He held me there, against the wall with one soft hand. Everything about his movement was graceful and had it not been for the slight pressure of bruising skin under his fingertips, I would've thought his touch was a ghost.
"Don't ever leave me again." Peter Pan said darkly.
I gulped, the movement strained by his hand positioned on my airway. "Peter, I-"
He leaned in, teeth grazing the skin at the base of my throat where my neck met my shoulder. I heard him inhale as he kept his hand tight on my chin.
"Never." he said again.
This time I didn't dare move. My body was frozen under his firm hold and my breath caught in my throat. I stared at him with wide eyes but Peter wasn't looking at me.
"You brought a child to Neverland when you knew it wasn't okay." I said cautiously. "You had to have know what would happen."
"My best friend abandoned me." Peter said with a dark tone I'd never heard before. His head lifted and suddenly he was staring at me again, eyes blackening as held me against the wall and said, "I never thought it would be you too, James."
"I didn't abandon you." I cried desperately. "But I needed time, Peter!"
"You're just the same as everyone else." Peter said, disgusted. He pushed himself off me, as though it repulsed him to be even near me then. "Love me until I try to give you the world and you see it as a sin."
"No. Peter, I-"
"I'm trying to make things better. For you. It's all for you."
Peter was walking to the other side of the room now, his back turned to me as he continued. "You don't see it, do you? No one ever does. Everything I've done has been for you, James. Now that I'm trying to make it better, you go and turn on me."
I ran after him. No, he couldn't think this. He couldn't possibly think I had abandoned him. He had to see, he had to know! I was nothing without him!
"No, Peter. Please. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to think I'd left you." I begged.
Peter stopped then, but he didn't turn to face me. Instead, his head looked slightly over his shoulder as he said, "Do you mean it?"
"With all my heart," I pleaded. "Peter, please. You know I do."
"Tell me, James."
"I could never leave you." I cried. "You are my best friend. You know me better than anyone else. You are my love, my life. All that I am is yours!"
His head turned a little further. "Everything?"
"Yes!"
He turned then. Facing me directly, he looked down to where I had fallen to my knees on the ground. I would do anything to make him see what he meant to me.
"There's still one thing you haven't given me." he said.
"Name it!" I cried. "Name it and it's yours."
And Peter Pan said, "Your heart."
I looked up in confusion. "What?"
"Give me your heart."
I stared at him, blinking a few times as I tried to process his words. Didn't he- Doesn't he-
"I don't understand-"
"Give me your heart. Your heart is the most loyal, devoted thing you could give to someone. I want to know if I have yours."
"Peter," I whispered, with a plea so loud I was begging him to see it with my entire body. "You have to have known. You've had my heart in your hands from the very first day."
He tilted his head towards me, still doubtful. "Do you mean it?"
"Yes! Oh yes! Peter, it is yours. It always has been. It always will be!"
"Swear it." he said, still standing above me. "Swear it on your mother's grave."
"I swear!" I cried. "I swear on my mother's grave. I swear on the King's life. I swear to the holiest of Heavens, you have my heart, Peter. It's yours."
Peter moved then. Stopping in front of me, he crouched down slowly. I watched him come with tears threatening to spill in my eyes. Surely, he knew.
He reached out a hand to gently cup my cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. "Oh James," he whispered. "I hate when we fight."
"Never again." I promised in a cracked voice. "Peter."
He hushed me softly. Taking my hand, he slowly pulled me to him in invitation but I couldn't wait. At the first sign of approval, I threw myself onto him and collapsed into his chest as I sobbed.
"Please Peter," I cried. "I'm sorry. I'll never leave you. Please don't be mad at me anymore."
"I'm not mad, my love." Peter kissed the top of my head. "Now that I know you won't leave me again. I hate being without you, James. Don't make me sleep without you again."
My sobs began to dissolve into relief as Peter stroked my hair gently. He knew. He knew what he meant. I had been able to show him.
"I hate it too," I told him. "Sleeping without you. Being without you."
"I need you close to me." Peter said. "Always. I never want you away from me."
"I never will be," I promised him. "I don't think my heart could bare another day."
"Hush James," Peter rocked me softly in his arms. "You're home now. Where you belong. With me."
And I was, because I'd made that boy a promise that day. I loved my friend, he was part of me. He had my heart, and I knew it would be safe as long as it was with him because he would always be right by my side.
So if I fell asleep in Peter's arms that night, comforted by the sound of his soft humming over the wind, I couldn't really be blamed for believing in a forever.
I had promised him that. Forever. All though, I would later realise that Peter Pan had never promised me anything in return.
And that was my first mistake.
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