The First Lost Boy (Wattys 2017) ON HOLD

t w e n t y • t h r e e

Hours had passed since Gwen left Harry at the beach and the sun was now setting. Evening was quickly approaching, and with the loss of light the mood around camp seemed to have dampen even more. The lost boys were quiet and somber over the death of one of their own. You could just feel their grief walking through camp and it was why Gwen chose to hole herself up in Tristan's hut with him. She'd barely left his side once she got him cleaned up and he was currently laying in his bed, curled up in a ball with his head resting in Gwen's lap. Her fingers were brushing his hair in comfort while they sat in silence, her heart too heavy with grief and guilt for her to even attempt talking.

What was she supposed to say to a six year old boy who saw the dead body of their friend? Especially when you were the reason for their death in the first place? She was never taught how to handle a situation like this and the longer she sat there in silence with the occasional sniffles that would leave Tristan, the more she hated herself.

She fought off the urge to cry when she heard Tristan whimper, then seconds later felt the wetness of his tears falling onto her bare thigh. "It's all my fault." 

She froze at his words then immediately shifted him until she was forcing him to sit up. Her hands were on his shoulders as she steadied him and looked him straight in the eye. "Why would you think that?"

"B-because I cut off Hook's h-hand and then," he stopped, his lip quivering as he brought his small fist up to rub his wet eyes. "They attacked. I shouldn't of h-hurt him!"

"Oh Tris," she sighed and shook her head, bringing his head to her chest as she hugged him. "It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong."

"I did," he cried again and clung to her for support. "I just didn't want them to t-take you away." He confessed and she felt more guilt fill her gut. She didn't respond to him but hugged him harder, murmuring comforting words to him as she rubbed his back. She knew if it were anyone's fault, it was hers. Harry had specifically told her to stay hidden and she defied his orders because she was afraid of Tristan getting hurt. Peter's words might have influenced her decision as well and that was the worse part of it. Were her actions done out of good intentions or to simply prove a point? It was a little of both.

Gwen did not like herself very much in that moment but hid her emotions well, focusing on comforting Tristan first. His cries had softened and she noticed his eyes fluttering closed. She'd been trying to get him to bed for hours now and she was relieved to see he was finally going to get some rest. The boy had been on one huge emotional turmoil and he needed rest.

When his breaths evened out, Gwen carefully shifted him until his head was resting on his bed. He stirred at the movement and Gwen sat there for a little longer, rubbing the top of his back to soothe him. The door opened while she was and she turned to see Jake walk in. He looked drained and he barely spared Gwen a glance before collapsing in his bed. Minutes later, she heard him crying and her heart chipped a little more.

Ridden with guilt, her throat constricted and she carefully pulled away from Tristan. She didn't know Jake very well but he was hurting just like Tristan and he wasn't that much older either. Maybe a year or two, still too young to be faced with something as heavy as this. So she stood to her feet and walked the short distance to his bed before sitting at the edge and rubbing his back as well. At first, he stiffened at her touch but then he relented and turned around to curl his body into Gwen's side. He accepted her comfort and just like Tristan, minutes later his cries stopped and he'd fallen asleep.

She sat there for a little while longer, staring at the side of Jake's sleeping face as she carefully brushed his hair back. Her eyes were stinging again with unshed tears but she knew she couldn't hold them back anymore. Before she could start sobbing and possibly wake the two boys, she carefully stood up and hurried towards the door. She slipped outside just before a strangled sob broke from her lips and her hands flew up to her mouth to contain it. She moved to the side of the hut where there was more privacy and allowed herself to weep. Flashes of Will's lifeless eyes kept flickering in her head and she couldn't help but think how right her mother had been when she told her someday her inability to listen to orders would come back to bite her. And it did, yet it wasn't her that paid for her mistake. It was Will.