Except One

The night was quiet, Neverland was still and gentle in the aftermath of the bloody and violent war between the Pirates and the Indians. Peter picked Regan up with a tender strength and rose softly into the air, flying higher and higher until he could taste the cotton of the clouds. Regan stirred faintly as the cold air began to kiss her cheeks and mouth and she woke, looking up at Peter with dazed and frightened eyes.

“Be still”, Peter spoke, hovering in the air and for a strange moment Regan saw not the boy Peter Pan, but Peter Pan, the man. A maturity of care and compassion was present in his voice and the way he looked down upon his home of Neverland,his cheekbones were sharper, his jaw more defined. Regan stared at the beauty before her, her head still dazed, her hands and body covered with blood. What would it be like to be with Peter Pan, in a way he had never been with any girl before?

But before a coherent answer could form in Regan’s swirling and throbbing head, the little boy was back, the amusing grin plastered upon his curled mouth once again. He looked down upon her, grinning.

“We won, we beat the Pirates once and for all”, his tone was light now, and his voice seemed to dance about in echoes around Regan. A wave of nausea came upon the girl and she moaned, turning her head away from the sight of Peter, the boy he would always be and the man he refused to become.

“Take me back Peter”, she whispered.

Peter frowned, not understanding why Regan was not dancing upon the clouds with him, skipping with the stars in a dainty two step. He came to the rightly conclusion, her head must be hurting her. She had received a nasty blow from Hook, which was still leaking the scarlet liquid and she must be sore and dizzy. No doubt of course, Peter thought, she must want to wash the nasty blood and dirt away from her body for all girl had a strange obsession with wanting to be clean. Peter didn’t like blood but the dirt of Neverland was like a security blanket upon his body. It was a map of all the adventures he had had and all the adventures still to come. Speaking of which, he needed to plan more now the battle was over.

“We shall dine with the Indian camp in a few hours”, he spoke leisurely to the limp Regan in his arms as he flew her back to their Never Tree, unaware she was not interested in his conversation, “they have the most wonderful parties, and we dance around the fire until the sun kisses the sky. It’s ever so much fun!”

He looked at Regan as he placed her down upon the boughs of the Tree, and waited expectantly for her answer. Her face was shadowed in the dark clouds of night, the moonlight laminating the sticky glow of blood that coated half of her skin. She still held her sword in her hand, he had not noticed it before, and it too glowed bright with the blood of Hook.

“Regan…”, Peter began to speak but Regan cut him off.

“Don’t Peter, just don’t. I need to be alone, go away.”

Peter stepped back from her angry and harsh tone. Regan had never spoken to him like that, even when she was a cold hearted mermaid. He studied her still features, before turning away.

“I need to go to the faeries anyway. They’ll get rid of the ship.”

He waited for an answer from Regan, but when only an empty silence stretched did he raise his arms and zoom from sight. Regan didn’t turn to watch his form disappear amongst the trees but she then too raised her arms, and allowed her feet to lift into the air. She flew without wings to the middle of the forest where a small pool of water waited. The moon was reflected in the still surface and Regan brushed her fingers through it, causing the image to break apart into angry ripples.

Regan waded into the pool, kneeling down feeling the dust of small stones underneath her knees and feet. She looked down upon herself, her hands under the water, gleaming an eerie white, tendrils of red rising from then and her body. Her blood and the blood of others rose into the water around her, from her and with a silent scream, Regan tore the dress from her body and dove naked into the deepest part of the pool.

She lay for a moment, underneath the surface. It was quiet and still within the water without the danger of mermaids or sea creatures. Her hair rose about her, longer than the time when Peter had saved her, and her head wound throbbed slightly as it was cleansed and washed.

When the need for oxygen came to much, Regan allowed herself to push up from the bottom and break the surface of the water. She gasped and gulped the air into her lungs, and swam to the side of the pool where she rested on a rocky ledge. Her face against the cold surface of the rocks, Regan thought about death.

It had been so easy to kill him. With a sickening twist of her stomach, she could feel the easy softness of how the sword had pierced his chest, how his blood had instantly left her body. With her eyes closed, she could still see his frozen death glare, the rest of his face fallen into a handsome peacefulness.

William Hook had done thousands of terrible things but it was Regan that had taken his life. She was a murderer.

Regan had never thought about killing anyone before. Even when she was being abused, she had never thought to kill her step-father. It was only her own life she was willing to sacrifice.

Regan had seen her mother’s corpse and the few people that had mourned her passing. Regan had been the witness of her mother slowly killing herself with drugs and alcohol. Everyday as a small child she had watched the giver of her life inject herself with the illegal substances. And then Farrell, her step-father had began his own suicide with alcohol, drugs and the abuse of the person who he was suppose to care for. Farrell had begun Regan’s suicide, the first day he touched her, the first day he crept into her bedroom, and pinned his hand over her mouth.

Regan let off a strangled whimper as the fear of the abuse, and the pain of rape and mental torture revisited her. She had wanted to forget everything, which was why she had accepted Neverland and Peter so readily. Neverland had healed the wounds within her body, Peter the wounds within her heart and soul. But now Regan needed answers.

Anger and frustration filled Regan and she rose her head to the sky to watch the Pirate ship lifted into the air, aglow with fairy dust. The faeries steered it into the sky, and they would continue to sail it until it reached so high, it would become another star in the sky to glow down at Neverland. The bodies of the Pirates and of Hook would have already been thrown overboard as was promised to the mermaids. Their bones would be used as knives and necklaces, malicious pleasures for the creatures of the deep.

Nothing made sense anymore, nothing would ever make sense until Regan did what she should have done a long time ago.

“Regan!”, Peter arrived into the small clearing, looking at Regan with wonder. She looked at him, her bare shoulders escaping the surface of the water, the rest of her female form hidden. Regan looked at Peter, who would most likely never want her in the way Hook had. For half a second, she willed Peter to become a man, wade into the water and claim her as his, so no-one could ever hurt her again and take what wasn’t theirs.

But he didn’t, he stood in shock as a little boy might, unsure of what to do or where to go. And that depressed Regan further.

“Go away Peter, leave me alone”, she whispered, her ice cold voice drifting to him as a chilly wind would.

Peter looked at her more, his gaze sad and uncertain “But Regan, I…”,

He didn’t finish the sentence as Regan grasped a small stone underneath her hand, and flung it towards him, “Go away Peter. I do not want you here!”

The stone struck Peter upon the nose, and he staggered back with a small gasp, not understanding where he rage was coming from. He gazed at her one more time, before turning around and disappearing into the sky.