lost_boy | forever a lost boy

I woke with a start, my eyes open suddenly, instantly awake and without the slightest bit of grogginess that sometimes followed me into the morning. In Darrow, I had allowed myself to relax. When I slept, especially the nights I snuck into Eddie's room, I slept heavily. I slept like someone who felt safe, but this morning as I came awake, I knew everything had changed.

Somehow, I had known it even before my eyes were open, but now that they were, I could see everything in the dim sunlight that filtered in through the roots of the tree.

Slowly I sat up. The animal skins and furs piled on top of me fell away and it was a strange sort of relief to discover I was still wearing the t-shirt and striped pyjamas pants I had fallen asleep in. If nothing else, that meant Darrow hadn't been a dream, I hadn't gone there in my mind in some desperate attempt to escape Peter. Darrow was real and I was no longer there.

The very thought of it broke my heart.

I inhaled shakily, stifling the sob that wanted to slip out, then looked to my left. If I was here, it would be time to wake the other boys. Time to tell them what Peter was really like, but as I reached for the shape I thought would be Charlie or Nod or Crow, I realized the person lying next to me was familiar, but not for the reasons I would have thought.

I gaped at them, then turned to my other side and flung back the animal furs. I stood, stepping over shapes, pulling back the furs and skins so I could see those around me and another sob almost slipped out of me as I realized I wasn't alone. My friends were here. My friends from Darrow. I was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude for just a second before an absolute terror the likes of which I had only felt once before replaced my pleasure.

If they were here, they weren't safe. Not a single one of them. Peter would know I cared for them far more than I could ever care for him. He would see them as a threat.

As if my very thoughts had summoned him, a shape from the other end of the tree moved. Peter, holding a sharp blade in one hand and a rough piece of wood he'd been carving in the other, stepped into the midst of bodies, most of them still groggy, having just been pulled from sleep. He looked them over, a king surveying his domain, then smiled at me.

His teeth were perfect, tiny white pearls; his baby teeth. The ones I had knocked out the last time I'd seen him.

"Hullo, Jamie," he said cheerfully. "Welcome home."

[Initial post for anyone under 18. Feel free to use this for explanations, adventure, run-ins with fairies or mermaids or Peter, who will be outwardly cool to everyone, but won't be violent yet. In a few days I'll post a new top level for Jamie and Peter's fight.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Peter didn't like girls. It was stupid and unfair, but he was still just a boy and I knew he thought they were no fun, unable to engage in the kinds of adventures he wanted, and so he didn't like them. It didn't matter what they were like, how smart or quick or capable they were, Peter had a very low opinion of girls and for that reason alone I was concerned for Beverly.

I caught sight of her, but so had Peter, and before I could reach her, he was standing in front of her. Then he crouched, bringing himself down to eye level with her and he stared for a long moment.

"Who are you?" he asked as I made my way over to them. I was moving cautiously, watching Peter, but I glanced at Beverly and tried to catch her eye.

It takes approximately the length of time for a stranger to approach her for Beverly to pull herself together. By the time she's asked who she is, she feels stubborn and a little more sure of herself, or at least better able to handle the fact that she isn't. She frowns a little, thoughtful and just a touch wary, stretching her legs back out under the fur blankets and letting her hands fall to her sides. "I'm Beverly," she says, both the simplest answer and one she's sure won't tell him much of anything. "Who are you?"

While speaking, she catches sight of Jamie, relieved to see him. Maybe he'll know what this is, though at the thought of that, she thinks she suddenly has an idea of where they might be, and deeply hopes that she's wrong.

"I'm Peter," he answered in a tone that said she ought to have known that already. He stood again and continued to whittle, his blade flashing back and forth. "This is my Island."

"Hi, Peter," I said cautiously as I approached. "Hi, Bev."

"Hullo, Jamie," Peter answered, then looked at me sidelong. "You've grown taller still. You're almost a man now. Seems there won't be much place for you here if that's happening."

Then he smiled at Beverly. "Or you. I don't have girls on the Island."

"That's a stupid rule," Beverly says, blunt but not exactly unkind, the way she might have spoken to those bitches at school who liked to make fun of her. The principle of it isn't really any different, and it's one she's used to. People always decide she isn't good enough for some reason, and it's usually a ridiculous one. She's a slut, or she's a loser, or, in this case, she's a girl, as if that has any bearing on how capable she might be. As if she hasn't dealt with monsters before.

She knows she's looking at one now, too; Jamie has told her enough about Peter for her not to have any question about that. She wants to punch him in the fucking face, but she keeps her cool for now, carefully restrained. At least anger is more comfortable than fear, making it easier to swallow that unsettled feeling she woke up with.

"You know I just woke up here, right?"

It was a stupid rule and Sal had been the first to break it, posing as a boy to survive on the streets of London and then doing the same here, right up until the moment she was stabbed. I hadn't meant to reveal her secret when I'd opened her shirt to tend to the wound, I hadn't known either, but I knew now that moment had been the beginning of the end.

"Someone brought you here," Peter answered, then looked to me. It was my fault, he was right about that. My friends were in danger because this awful place had been my home. "Even if it wasn't me."

"I brought them here," I said, stepping closer to Beverly. "I thought it was always our Island."

Peter snorted and looked at Beverly again. "No," he said clearly. "It was only ever mine."

"Of course it was," Beverly says, rolling her eyes in obvious disdain. She should be more careful, but she's also sick of this shit, only a few seconds around Peter enough for her to feel like she sees what Jamie has told her about him. She's had enough of self-centered bullies like him to last her a goddamn lifetime. Because of that, she also knows that what Jamie just said isn't exactly true. He wouldn't have brought them here on purpose. It seems all the more pointless to get upset over something unintentional, but there probably wouldn't be any way to explain that, and she doubts it would make a difference to Peter anyway.

"You're not very good at sharing, huh?"

Peter's eyes flashed to Beverly and then away again, dismissing her, but I had seen something I didn't like at all in that second. It was the same way he had looked at Sal. He saw her as a girl to come between us and although I loved Beverly dearly, Peter couldn't know it was only friendship that existed between us and not romance. I had been so worried about Eddie, about Peter seeing the love there and being threatened by it, that I hadn't stopped to consider what he might assume with my other friends.

"We're going to plan a raid later, Jamie," Peter said as he turned his back on us. "Get them ready."

My jaw tightened, but I said nothing. I only wanted him to leave and eventually he did, and I finally allowed myself to relax, if only a little. I dropped down beside Beverly and threw my arms around her, hugging her tight.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to bring anyone here."

"I know," Beverly says, her voice quiet and muffled into Jamie's shoulder when she hugs him back. The situation they're in is no less precarious, but it's still something of a relief to be almost alone with him, not dealing with Peter hovering over them. She feels more like she can breathe again, and even if that's only temporary, she ought to make the most of it while she can. They won't be safe here. She's so fucking sick of not being safe.

That's exactly why she doesn't need Jamie to tell her that he didn't mean for this to happen. He would never have knowingly put his friends in this kind of danger. He's told her enough about Peter for her not to have any question of that. "I know you didn't. Are you okay?"

I nodded, because I was truly more worried about my friends than I was myself. I had been dealing with Peter for a very long time and if this was where I was meant to be, then I supposed it didn't surprise me all that much. But my friends didn't deserve to be there, they shouldn't have had to deal with Peter and the danger he might put them in, the ways in which he might try to hurt them, all because of me.

"Stan is here, too," I told her. "And Richie. I'm most worried about Richie and Luke, honestly. Peter seems to have taken a liking to Richie, which is almost worse than him disliking you, and Luke is so young."

I squeezed Beverly's hand. "I think it's like what happened with Regan. I think we'll wake up soon enough." I had to think that, I had to hope for it.

"Ugh, Richie better not do anything fucking stupid," Beverly says with a groan. Knowing Richie, of course, that seems inevitable, but maybe he can at least keep the stupidity to a minimum, and hopefully not get himself killed again this time, too. She's not sure she could go through that again. Besides, even with Jamie saying he thinks this is like what happened before, she couldn't possibly be dismissive of anything so serious. It felt real before; this feels real now. Writing any of that off would seem naïve.

"I can help keep an eye on Luke," she offers. She doesn't really know the kid, but it seems like the least she can do. "I can deal with Peter disliking me."

I shook my head, because even if Richie did something foolish, there was no way I was letting anything happen top him again. I wasn't letting anything happen to any of them. They were my friends, my family, and Peter wouldn't lay a hand on them.

"Thank you," I said with a small smile. "I think if we're all looking out for Luke, all looking out for each other, we should be safe. Well, safer. I don't want anyone going anywhere alone. We should always be with someone."

I knew I seemed overprotective, but it was for the best.

forever a lost boy

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