Chapter 8: Ohana

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"Oh, come on!" Tink exclaimed crossly as she slammed yet another door closed, sending a mischief of mice scurrying away from her loud echoes of displeasure. "We've checked the Nook, the Dust Depot, the library, even around the base of the Pixie dust tree, so where in Neverland can he be?"

She stormed back into the square and over to where her friends had gathered, reporting no more luck than her.

"Per'aps 'e went back 'ome," Clank suggested. "Mebbe that's why we can't find 'im anywhere else."

He was tired of searching. They all were.

Tired of the lies. Tired of the secrets. Tired of feeling like no matter what they did to try and help, Bobble was never going to trust them with the truth. At least not all of it, not the way he needed to. Sure, he had finally told them about Scorpion and the voices and the nightmares, but it hadn't been because he'd wanted to, and he certainly hadn't told them about the whole burning-things-with-one-touch thing. 

Even after all this time, after everything they'd done together; saving the Hollow from the freeze, going to the mainland, fixing spring in time for the season's change, he clearly still didn't trust them at all.

"But wouldn't he expect us to come looking for him there?" Fawn asked, coming up behind Tink, brushing off her hands and plucking straw from her hair, disappointment written across her grim expression.

He hadn't been hiding with the mice, then.

"I don't think he's really in the right mindset to be thinking at all," Rosetta pointed out. "Or he wouldn't have run away in the first place."

"Okay, that's true," Sil put in. "So maybe he did go back home. That's what I'd do if I were upset. That or go talk to the babbling brook."

"Yeah, somehow I don't think he's talking to the river," Vidia scoffed, folding her arms with a sigh.

"All right," Tink caved, having come up with no better ideas by this point. "Clank and I will go back to Tinker's Nook to look again. The rest of you, keep looking around here. I don't think he could have gotten far. At least, I don't think he has fast-flying talent anymore."

Vidia snorted. "He never was one in the first place. At least not truly. Having the skill does not make one a fast-flyer. That title is only deserved when you earn it through training and practice. Seasons of practice. Not...poof-I'm-a-protector-now-look-at-me-aren't-I-so-special."

"I don't think Bobble talks like that," Silvermist commented.

"No, sweetie, of course not. That was just an example. He's far too much of a goodie-two-shoes to--"

"Vidia's just being a sour flower this mornin'," Rosetta butted back in, giving the fast-flyer a stern look. "Don't worry about it."

"And I'm not the only one!" Vidia countered. "After someone panicked and blew up our kitchen!"

"All right, now don't you think that's just a little bit of exaggeration?"

"Uh...not really. Did you not see the table lit on fire?"

"Yeah, I still don't understand how that happened," Fawn admitted. "Fire-talent isn't a thing, right?"

"Definitely not," Iridessa agreed. "It would be much too dangerous!"

"And probably very difficult to control!" Sil added, shivering at the thought.

"Besides, what would a fire-talent fairy even do to help with the seasons?"

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