Counting Scars - OUAT

Sickness Returns

I was not sure if being next to Peter's tent was a blessing for him. Because in the very early morning, Peter started screaming like a mad man.

I woke up immediately and rushed into his room. Tears stained his pink cheeks, in fact, his cheeks seemed terribly flustered. His hair was matted to his forehead and his chest was rising and falling unevenly.

I walk to his bed, placing a hand on his forehead only to pull it back quickly. "Peter! You're burning up!"

He groans, tears trickling down his face. Tears full of agony. Tears from behind the mask, behind the demon, the outer shell that he covered up with. Now, the true him was slowly trickling its way out.

I snatch a cloth and dunk it into the bucket of water from a day or two ago. The water was still cool, surprisingly; tingling my fingertips and giving me small chills at the touch of it. I then quickly fold it and place it on his forehead. Water was trickling down his face, mixing with his salty tears.

"Peter, how in the world did you just randomly get sick?" I asked, sitting next to him on his bed.

More tears were shed from his glossy green eyes. He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head weakly. He coughs and wipes his tears with the back of his hands. Although, more tears kept rolling down his face, never ceasing even when he closed his eyes.

He was hurting from deep inside of him. He was concealing his sorrows inside of him that it was too much. The cage can only hold so many before the sorrows are smashed together, aching behind the bars just begging to be free and cry away.

And it had seemed that some of those sorrows were escaping. Of course, by pain.

Even though I did not know why he was getting so sick, many thoughts and reasons gushed into my head all at once.

Was it possible to make yourself mentally sick until you actually become sick? Or was it something simple, like, eating something he shouldn't have or catching the flu? Peter said that he had never gotten sick while in Neverland. If he has been here for centuries, maybe this must mean that he got the flu or some virus, and his immune system isn't strong enough. Could it?

All his life on Neverland, it seems that he has been relying on magic to keep himself.. well.... Alive. What if his magic is fading out? I wondered.

Peter harshly coughs, interrupting my thoughts. "You know, you could be just a little bit quieter when thinking, Winter." He remarked hoarsely.

My eyes widen, "you can read my thoughts?!" My cheeks grow hot and red.

He smirks weakly as if trying to look like he was painless. "Sometimes, if I really want to."

I scoff, "and you decided to read my thoughts now?"

He chuckles, only for it to turn into a raspy cough. "Yeah. And by the way, I am not mentally trying to get myself sick."

I scrunch my nose, "I didn't say that."

He cocks an eyebrow... Barely. "Oh really? Then what was that 'was it possible to make yourself mentally sick until you actually become sick?'" He recited.

I roll my eyes, "In my defense, I was just thinking of possibilities. You are unpredictable, Peter Pan."

He winks, "that I am."

I give him another eye roll and slide off his bed, grabbing an empty bucket. "Yes, and just in case you decide to be unpredictable again, here's a bucket."

He furrows his brows, "why a bucket?"

I giggle and set the bucket down next to his bed. "Just in case you throw up. Your lips are very, very, very pale." I lean over him, placing my finger on his lips. "They aren't those plump, pink lips I remember. They're cracked, thin, and pale."

He scrutinizes at me. "Are you flirting with me?" He asked, almost disgusted.

I smirk, "can't you read my thoughts, Peter?"

He bites his bottom lip, staring at me. "Y-your desires are what makes me weak. Why do you do such a thing to me?"

I grin, caressing his cheek with my hand. "Continue."

He swallows, furrowing his brows. "Y-your th-thoughts... Is that what you truly desire of me?"

I kiss his forehead. "Maybe. Maybe when I see the real you.... Go to sleep, Peter."

He opens his mouth to speak, only to furrow his brows even more and his eyelids droop until they sealed shut.

Odd, I thought. Peter was fast asleep, his pale lips becoming more pink and his fever cooling. I had difficult time believing it was his magic that seemed to be healing him. He still looked weak, he looked desolate. And it made me realize how much I wanted to just wrap myself in his arms and make him feel wanted. I was growing fond of him. What can I say? He was perplexing, a puzzle. He was alluring, yet a demon, an angel that had wings dipped in black ink. A heart that was crushed, then roughly put together, then crushed again.

Peter had referred me to an angel. Maybe I could be the one to bring him back into the light.

And I would do anything to put this broken angel back together.

***

"Ready or not, here I come," Peter's voice echoed.

A little girl with long, pale blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and about the age of eight, hid inside a cabinet in the dining tent. She giggled when she heard Peter say things like "She's not in this log," and "Emerson must have invisibility powers. I can't find her anywhere!"

Peter had walked off into a different direction, smirking, and pretending that he did not know little Emerson was hiding in the dining tent. He then teleported in front of the cabinet, swinging it open and reaching his hands into the cabinet, tickling the little girl until she started screaming with laughter.

"I got you, Emerson. Now you're it!" Peter laughed as he brought Emerson up to her feet.

The little girl pouts and crosses her arms, stomping her foot. "I don't wanna! You cheat!"

Peter smiles and picks the girl up. "Ah, but Emerson," he begins, looking into her eyes with seriousness. "Cheaters never win."

The little girl smiled and kissed Peter's cheek. "Then don't cheat this time, Peter."

Peter nods his head with a smile and sets the girl down. "Emerson, you are my little princess."

The girl hugs him. "Yes, and you are my King, Peter. King Peter!" Little Emerson squealed.

"Yes, and one day, I hope you'll be my queen... Now let's continue that game. I promise I won't cheat."

The little girl sticks out her little pinky finger. "Pinky promise?"

Peter entwines his pinky with hers, an even bigger smile forming on his face. "Pinky promise."

The girl smiled back and covered her eyes. "One... two.... three..."

***

I woke up with a smile on my face. I had dreamed of Peter and I back in Neverland when I was younger. And the best part, was that Peter did think of me the way I had hoped.

I was his angel. The angel that would bring him back to the light. I had never felt so much determination coursing through my veins. I wanted to help Peter.

A little part of me wanted his love....

***

A/N: Yayyyyyy another chapterrrrrr. OKAY IM FANGIRLING BECAUSE I THINK THIS MEMORY IS THE CUTEST THING EVER. If you thought this chapter was absolutely adorable, please consider on giving it a vote!
-Kaylalalalalala

Word count: 1,284