Caged • Robbie Kay/Peter Pan •

Chapter Twelve

Three days ago, Chase drowned.

His body swallowed by the sea and his spirit haunted every mind of the ones he left behind.

For three days, hardly a word was spoken to each other. Everyone knew why he did it, but no one wanted to accept it.

Chase was a coward.

He drowned himself, hoping the waters of Neverland would rescue him from Peter's punishment, though no one except Peter knew exactly what he would've endured if he had chosen to live.

A memorial, if you could call it that, was held on the beach. Caspar and Owen buried his things six feet under the sand.

No kind words were said, no memories shared and not a tear was shed for the young boy that took his own life because he was too afraid to face the beast he created.

Peter, who was just well enough trudge along aimlessly as if he were drunk, sat on the sand staring at the freshly dug earth.

His eyes never shifted from the rolling blue waves as he clenched fistfuls of sand and let the wind carry the grains away before he would pick up another handful and do the same thing again, emotionless and completely silent.

As the boys started to leave the beach, I glanced back at Peter.

I would never be able to read the mind of Peter Pan, and right then it seemed closer to impossible as it had ever been.

A few drops of rain hit my face and rolled down my cheeks. "Peter, we need to get back! It's started raining!" I shouted as it grew stronger and louder.

He ignored me, only blinking as the water drenched his hair and clothes. "Peter! Come on! You're still not well!"

I sighed, pulling my hood over my head to shield me from the rain, and walked briskly through the sand to where he sat. As I placed my hand on his shoulder, he flinched, his gaze never meeting mine. "I told you to go back to the camp." he said crossly.

"It's raining, you can't be out here alone."I told him.

"I know that it's raining. You had your fun playing doctor or mummy or whatever you want to call it, but I don't need your help now and I certainly don't need you telling me what I can and cannot do." he spat.

I didn't respond, knowing that arguing with him was pointless.

"If I wanted to kill him I would've done it when he took Hope from me." Peter admitted, his voice cutting through the steady sound of the brewing storm.

"Peter, there was nothing you could do. Chase did this to himself." I paused. "Please, let's go back, Peter. It's over now."

He sighed scornfully and shakily pulled himself up off the ground. I reached my hand out to secure him, but he pulled away from it. "I thought I said I didn't need your help."

We paced through the rain and into the forest, Peter walking slowly with his arms clutched around him and his head dropping, only glancing up to be sure of where he was going. Suddenly, he halted, letting his hands fall.

"Peter, are you okay?" I asked, running to his side.

His breath quickened and he clutched his stomach before retching onto the path, along with his boots and mine.

And without warning, he passed out, collapsing onto the ground.

•••

I'm drowning.

I can see the surface, but I'm unable to reach it.

My lungs beg for air but there is no air to breath as the pressure intensifies.