The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan
By C.D


Chapter 1: Boys in Black and Moon Shaped Scars


It was a normal rainy day, and I had just returned from an impromptu visit to the bank after I discovered my trashy roommate had cleared out the fridge. I don't know how on earth he did it, I was only at school for two hours. So needless to say I was a
little peeved at him. Days like those reminded me of my dear overprotective mother back in the states warning me about those "crazies" that lurk around London. But frankly crazies lurk around within just about every city limit outside Lemonville, Ohio.

Yes, my hometown. Too small to be seen on a map, but quaint none the less. Of course I was excited about moving out after high school. To make a long story short I got a job at a neighboring pizza parlor by my apartment and met Trestand. Spacy, tired, mistaken to be high Trestand. My roommate. Hey I'm a sucker for accents, but he's my bud. So there.

Anyway, It was a normal rainy day and I was walking along the damp black streets of London when I heard a rustle to my right. I stopped in my tracks and peered into the ally beside me. A dark figure, sitting on his knees hunched over with his back to me. He was draped beneath a black trench coat, and I noticed this right before he flopped to his back like a fish out of water and slammed the backs of his hands beside him.
My conscience told me to keep walking, that maybe those crazies really did exist and I was gonna be raped and killed if I didn't run far away. So what do I do? Walk over to him.

I raised a brow as I looked down upon his figure, and had to lean over far enough to get a good look at his face. He was too clean to be a homeless drunkard, and
too good looking to be a rugged outlaw. The guy was out cold, but I couldn't find a scratch on him. Dark black hair, tinted with a hue of purple set over his delicate skin; and his body was sleek and powerful. Must have been an athlete. I looked both ways before kneeling down and checking him for any kind of weapon before carefully pushing up his shirt. At first sight of the gash I cringed. The wound was deep and gushing out a profuse amount of blood.

Not enough to bleed to death, but enough for me to decide I couldn't just LEAVE him there.

So I hooked my purse over my shoulder and looped my arms beneath his. It took me a while, but I dragged the guy up to my apartment. It wasn't a long way, probably not even half a block. And strangely, he wasn't that heavy. Either I had acquired some sudden inhuman strength, or he weighed sixty pounds. And to tell you the truth I was leaning towards answer B. Old lady Whethers was in the lobby, and she gawked at
the sight before her. Thank God that woman is losing a few marbles. Cause when she asked me what I was doing, I calmly responded:

"I found a runt on the street." I smirked, "Think I'm gonna keep him."

"How nice." She replied, in an accent as strong as Treston's, "I'll bring by some cookies later."

With that she flashed a brilliant "I don't know where the hell I am" smile. I dragged the guy into the antique elevator and dropped him with a thud. My back was starting to hurt. The thing was so old, it took forever to get to the fifth floor. Usually I took the
stairs, but I didn't want to have to add a broken leg to his list of injuries. Just as the little arrow inched across the first floor I sighed, flicking the golden orchid strands of hair out of my eyes. As I leaned against the rickety wall of the shaking box, a
soft sound caught my ear. A faint groan.

I looked down at him and kneeled by his side. The guy's eyes opened just slightly, and I gasped upon their appearance. Vibrant, glowing gold. Flecks of metallic silver fluttered around his pupils as if being a swarm of insects. Sure I wear purple contact
lenses, but damn- I had never seen eyes like those. He blinked sleepily and tilted his head towards me.

"Um, hey." I said, eyes darting around me. The soft chime of the floor two signal was heard behind me as I put a soggy strand of hair behind my ear, "You don't know me, but I found you in the street. I think someone attacked you, so I'm gonna bring you home and patch you up, all right?"

The guy wasn't even to the point of being half asleep. Being so out of it, he didn't answer for a long time. As the ding of the third floor was heard he sat up, head drooping against the wall for support. I touched his shoulder while quietly requesting he stay down. Opening his eyes a little more (which was still only a slit) he blinked at me, and a cold, trembling hand set against my cheek. My eyes whipped over to it, probably looking as if It were alive and crawling into my face.

Before I had any vague conception of what was going on he kissed me. Yes, abrupt and without warning, the stranger kissed me. I'm sure my expression was something to see, as his lips gently rolled against mine, shaking almost as badly as his hands. Just as I was about to set my hand on his chest and push him back, something different filtered into my body. A power of some strange sort, that tickled my lips like static electricity. Every nerve ending on my body stood on end and tingled under the foreign sensation, and I closed my eyes as my body immersed itself in it.

Suddenly, I felt as if all my weight was taken from me and launched into space. I was light as a feather, and I could no longer feel the ratty red carpet beneath my palms and knees. As I opened my eyes, I broke away from him and gasped. I was floating! No more than a foot off the ground-I was levitating! Then the stranger closed his eyes and flopped onto his shoulder sleepily. Of course I was dropped to the ground with a thud, and before I could yell and scream and gawk he was out.

The sharp ding of the fifth floor buzzer was heard, and the doors opened in an unruly slide. I looked to him, then my door, to him, to the door and blinked. This was quite odd indeed. More peculiar than the people at my college. I grumbled and dragged the guy by my door, shakily got the key out and opened it. It was trashy, as usual. Trestand really needed to get another job, one that kept him away at work as long as school did for me. It would keep the apartment looking a little more presentable anyway.

I groaned as I dragged the mystery man in, loosely kicking boxes and clean, but raggy clothes aside. I made my way over to my bed (which was nicely made) and dropped his rag doll body beside it. Scratching my head, I shrugged and made an attempt at picking him up. The guy was unfaltering light, which was incredibly unnatural for someone of his obvious strength. Don't get me wrong, the guy wasn't BULKY, but he looked strong and sleek for such a thin body.

Once I had him up on my bed, I began to worry about him bleeding all over my mother's fluffy white comforter. The thing really was like an enlarged pillow, and I wasn't about to come home to mom saying, "Oh sorry. I dragged a strange guy off the street and HE was the one who bled all over the sheets.". She'd um- pass out.

There was a shuffle behind me, as Trestand strolled up in his boxers showing me he had just woken up from his fifth nap of the day. He raised a brow upon the sight before him as I shook my head and waved my arms about, "It's not what it looks like!"

"Wow. You work silently, don't ya?"

"No Trestand! I found this guy on the street and he was bleeding, so I figured.."

He interrupted, "Found him on the street? Come on now, you don't need to get desperate."

"Shut up and let me finish!" I snapped, "On the elevator ride up here the most amazing thing happened--"

"Whoa." he blinked, "Work fast too."

I glared and shooed him away. Jerk. Whatever. Never mind. Don't you have work to go to or something? Or another half ass attempt at band practice with the other three wannabee-monkeys?

Trestand brought the cigarette from his lips and set a tentative hand over his chest, It hurts me when you say that luv, it really does. For a friend, he's pretty affectionate, no?

I smirked, Good. Now go make yourself useful and run down to the corner store. We're out of gaws and bandages from your last accident with the chess champ. Honestly, who breaks their ankle in a chess match?

He rolled his eyes and pivoted, grabbing his jeans off the chair in front of our computer (which is actually mine). I don't know why he wasn't reluctant to get dressed, let alone do something that required any range of movement. Of course on his way out he sloppily reminded me it was a pinky. Fractured pinky toe in a chess match.

So I was left alone with the stranger. I took some time to change out of my good clothes, and got into some old ones that I wouldn't mind getting dirty. To tell you the truth I think at the time I was being a tad paranoid about the blood factor. Perhaps being wrapped up in a situation like that does that to a person. I shuffled over to the bed and got him to a sitting position so I could take the trench coat off.

After getting one sleeve, I had to hook one arm in front of his chest to keep him upright. That was when it happened. A startled gasp came from beneath me, and I was suddenly thrown back and grabbed by the neck. Surprisingly, I didn't make a sound as the pressure of a small blade pricked into my neck. A long period of silence slipped by.

I reached a shaking hand out and grabbed his wrist.

Oi. Guy. I'm-I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? I gasped.

His golden eyes darted about the room, those silver flecks swirling around his iris rapidly. His gaze fell upon me and narrowed.

I managed, I found you on the street. A-and I just wanna help you. Okay?

He didn't answer, so I repeated myself, Okay? C'mon. Put the knife down. I-I'm a..friend.

A faint something that could have been mistaken as a smile stretched across his lips before he let go of me and the dagger dropped to the floor. I looked down at it, noticing it wasn't as big as it felt- and hand made by the same token. He bit his lip, laughing faintly as I rubbed my neck.

I raised a brow, You okay?

I did it. he grinned, I made it out.

All righty then? was my reply, as I looked back and forth, You better stay down. You seem pretty hurt.

His eyes shifted down to his chest, and he saw the moon shaped scar and grimaced. The guy remained quite calm considering clumpy flakes of skin had started to surface around it. Even I was a little grossed out.

What's your name? He asked me sharply.

Uh- Cleo. Cleo Mathews. Listen is there a place I can take y-

he held his hand out to me, Peter Pan.

I reached out to shake it and he swiped it backwards, an expression streaking his face that was clearly taunting. Just as I was about to snap at him for acting like a third grader, something struck me.

Peter Pan? I laughed, Come on, you're not serious. Like the little boy from the play?

Um- I don't know anything about a play, but I'm quite sure I'm who I say I am.

I laughed, Yeah right. Then I guess you haven't heard of the animated movie about you. Yes, the little red head kid in tights with his magical fairy. Now really, what's your name?

Peter Pan. It's not that wierd. And her name is Tinkerbell thank you very much. Although think I lost her somewhere along the line. He commented quite ignorantly, like his maturity level hadn't changed in years, An animated movie? I've heard of those. I bet the Darling family ratted out to the world. Never liked them in the first place. I smiled, hearing his slight British accent.

Do you fly too? I said in a tone that was meant to be sarcastic, but didn't quite come out that way.

He nodded. Suddenly, I remembered the experience in the elevator. I was floating, and I was sure I wasn't imagining it.

So you're telling me you just flew in from Never Never Land? I smirked,

he shrugged, It's been years since I last visited here. Things got pretty lonely back there after that bitch Wendy took all the lost boys home. I mean, wot the hell am I supposed to do? Hang out with the indians? They're a bunch of pot-heads anyway.

..So how'd you get the gash?

Pirates. Ran into them before take off, and of course Tigerlilly wasn't any help. Her and her band of lesbians were too wasted from the rave they had the night before. Neverland sucks now. It really does.

I touched my forehead, I guess that explains the levitation act in the elevator.



You don't remember, do ya? On the way up here you kissed me and-

Kiss? Where? Where'd ya put it? he looking me up and down.

I giggled. I suddenly wished I had a thimble to hold out or something- it would only fit. So the stories were real, the movie was true. And all this happened because of Wendy Darling telling everyone about him? This was all too much to handle on such an average day. I blinked, snapping out of it as he stood up and walked towards the small bathroom.

H-hey! Wait a minute. Should you be doing that? I mean- I started.

Peter reassured, I've had worse, ya know.

Yet no more than three seconds after he entered our tiny- closet sized bathroom did he jump at what he saw in the mirror. With an expression of pure and utter shock he touched his face. After seeing that it was in fact real, he turned his chin from side to side before grinning at me like a wild man. I raised a brow.

he said in amazement, I'm all grown up!

That's the thing that surprises me, I said to Peter, squeezing in the small room beside him, Peter Pan is supposed to be a little boy. Yet you're clearly..not.

I guess- the years caught up with me, ay? It has been a while ya know. Then he stood out in front of me and held his arms out, How do I look?

I hesitated, eyes dancing about, Good, I guess?

Peter looked disappointed, My first time to grow up and I'm just good? C'mon Cleo! Try an' elaborate!

I laughed. But that was when someone fumbled with the lock at the door. I turned my head around just in time to see Trestand nearly fall through the door. His hands were graciously occupied with plastic bags full of band-aids and what not. My roommate looked at me and held them in the air.

This good enough princess? he asked before taking note to what stood behind me, but then he winced. That was when I heard the loud thump behind me.

I whipped my head around and looked down to see him sprawled out on the floor like a rag doll. Grumbling I grabbed his arms and dragged him back out to my room. Hero or not, when you're hurt- you're hurt. And when ya loose blood, you don't romp around on your feet. Trestand saw this and inquired,

Who is e, Cleo?

I told you. I saw him on the street and he's got this really nasty scar. But that's not important! Trestand- I grabbed his shoulders, This guy is the real Peter Pan!

He paused for a moment before silence rolled by like an eerie fog. I felt my expression slowly start to drop and become stiff before he widened his eyes in new found realization. We both gasped in excitement before he said,

Who's Peter Pan?

Trestand you dolt! Peter Pan! The little boy with his fairy that fly around and fight pirates and stuff! I explained making little punching gestures at his chest.

His expression remailed taut as he raised the bags up and dropped them in my arms. As I grumbled slightly, he commented, I'm going back to sleep.. And I stuck my tongue out at him for that one. Dullard.

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I took what little time I had before he woke up again and cleaned him up. It was starting to get dark when I had a lamp shining brightly on his wound, and I dabbed at it gently with the gauss Trestand bought. That's the upside about him being unconscious- he wouldn't squirm at the burning alcohol.

In all honesty, I should have called a hospital. But there wasn't one for miles in our area- and Trestand and I didn't own a car. Sure, we could have called an ambulance to get there, but all that trouble for something that could be patched up at home? In any case, It took me a while, but Peter was looking much better when I was done. All those years as a nurse's assistant when I was a camp counselor in America helped.

But there was one problem- where was he gonna sleep? The floor wasn't exactly the best place to dump a hurt person, and I'd sooner throw him out a window than let him room with Trestand. On the rare occurrence I enter my roomie's domain, I best take a switchblade if I want to make it through alive. I sighed- well as long as he's out of it...

I took a shower before I went to bed, and dried my hair for the next day. After slipping into some warm flannel pajamas, I sighed and stared at him. Four hours later and he was still out cold. So pushing him over a little further in my bed, I slid in beside him and felt my exposed arms brush against his bare chest. The lamp was turned off with a click, and I was left in darkness with only the sound of his gentle breathing.

I sniffled and closed my eyes, attempting to get some sleep before work in the morning. Honestly, who's gonna buy pizza at ten a.m? Nevertheless I would be faced with the task of waking up the dullard- which is usually done screaming outside his door. Either that or I'll open the door just quick enough to throw something in. So there I lay, hopelessly staring into the ceiling once I realized my body wasn't ready for sleep yet.

I felt strangely excited at the fact such a mysterious man had walked into my life. Or rather mysterious boy. There he was, trapped in that beautiful body- yet still acted like a thirteen year old. How odd. Yet it's situations like this that get girls murdered on the streets. I wouldn't have believed him if it weren't for what happened in the elevator.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feeling of fingertips brushing lightly across my hips. We both lay on our sides, and he had set his palm gently against my waist. Strange how someone who has never touched a female in his life could be so comfortable with touch- in his subconscious anyway. I thought back to the plays when Wendy would just try and touch Peter's shoulder, and he would jump like her hands were on fire. Hn.

The night wore on, and I didn't even remember falling asleep. I woke up only once, and that was when Peter fidgeted in his sleep. I found it incredible he could move at all- the gash was moon shaped and about a foot long. Not too deep, but bad enough to stiffen when he rolled over.

But no sooner did I close my eyes, did the burning cream colored rays shine through my window.

I squinted and grumbled. Morning comes too early, you know? If the world could have three extra hours, people would be a lot better off. In any case, the light streams were bright enough to see flecks of dust floating among them. I sighed and turned over to my back- Peter's body was suspiciously absent. I sat up and his something hard, and my forehead clunked against it's bony surface.

we both whined at the same time.

I blinked, Peter, what are you doing up there?

he asked like a child.

He sat atop my bed frame, or actually- floating atop it. Peter had been leaning over me, his dark bangs hanging loosely from his face. He grinned devilishly, sending the metallic flecks whirling about his gold eyes.

So what are we gon'ta do today? he asked, arching his shoulders up in excitement.

Funny you should ask that. I sat up and turned around to him, We are going to work.

he grimaced, Work is for people with no adventure.

Yes. Yes. But here we don't have pirates of pot head indians. You gotta make a living or you'll starve to death on the streets. I explained, pulling on my gray sweater, You're in the real world now, Peter. You used to be a normal human too, you know?

He paused, as if I had said something terribly horrible to him. I bit my lip, debating is to taking back what I had said. Perhaps this was too much to weigh on such a playful and lighthearted mind. I jumped into my jeans and looked at him, not really believing I was talking to a guy that was floating in my room.

I'm gonna go wake up the dullard real quick. Stay right there. I said to him before walking over to Trestand's door.

Today Peter was going to see his first day of real adult work.