The Neverland Wars

Chapter 12

Peter

It's been a week since Emma and I began investigating Rapture and Booker DeWitt, and a week since she became obsessed with chasing a ghost story. The past seven days she's secluded herself to our shared quarters for the majority of the day, buried in her research. At night, she obsessively trains, clocking hours upon hours of gun time, as well as working with Seb to configure her new mission suit. She's filling the hours of the passing days with studies and training; the irony is not lost on me how familiar this behavior is. When we were young, she often filled her days with the same things. Not much else to do with a war being waged.

The amount of training has drastically changed her body within her month of being back in Hangman's Tree. Gone is the skinny and bruised girl Seb and I rescued, replaced by a strong, dangerous secret agent, with lean muscles that fill out her clothes now.

Don't you think it's kind of creepy that you're just standing here watching her train? Tink chirps in the observation box. I realize how it must seem to any person who might stumble in: me watching Emma train during the wee hours of the morning, before anyone else is awake.

"She invited me," I roll my eyes, biting back a smile. Fairies, with their near-immortal lifespans, were always the keepers of Neverland's history, which is why it made the most sense to Emma's father to turn her into our entire database for the Rebellion. When the Red Queen took the throne in Wonderland, her dark magic overcame the entire fairy population in Neverland. Tink was one of the last ones left, but even her light was going out. A part of me thought it inhumane to make her into a computer program, but another, more-selfish part of me was terrified at the thought of losing my longest companion--the person who helped me learn how to survive in Neverland, who was always there, even in my oldest, haziest memories. How was I supposed to get by without her? It was a difficult decision to make, made even more cumbersome when the Queen's magic finally got to me and I understood the severity of what I'd done by condemning her to an eternity as a machine.

It's bad enough that neither of you can seem to stay asleep. Now you've resorted to stalking? I'm concerned for your health, Peter.

"Ha ha," I retort. "Very funny."

I set my eyes back on Emma in the training room, where she's stopped blowing up ballistic dummies with her hands for the time being. "Tired?" I tease, making her roll her eyes.

"I still can't seem to get this lightning throwing thing down," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

I fly from the observation tower to meet her on the training floor. "It's lightning."

"Yeah," she says. "But I can do it. I know I can. That's why it's frustrating."

I glance at the ballistics dummies set around the room. "Maybe it's because you're not fighting real people?"

"Hmm?" she murmurs, distracted.

"In a training scenario, you're only going to be capable of so much power. When you're in a real fight, you're not factoring in reaction time, environmental factors, adrenaline...things like that."

"I guess."

"I'll fight you," I offer.

For a moment, she chuckles. But then she takes a look at my face. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I could kill you."

"Guess I better be careful."

Her violet gaze holds mine evenly before a corner of her mouth finally pulls up into a half-smile. "Okay."

Not even a second after her response, I throw a quick jab that she quickly dodges, stepping to the side. Our match has officially begun. I take a step after her, throwing another jab that she neatly parries, sidestepping again. I aim another blow towards her torso that she blocks before grabbing my wrist and administering a shock to my skin, throwing me to the side in an effort to put some space between us. I don't go very far, merely stumbling a step or two before I turn back to face her.