Peter Pan and the War of Evils

Epilogue

 EPILOGUE

"...the end!" The Storyteller wrapped up her tale with the same flourish she always did, an air of mystery behind her words and a twinkle of mischief behind her eyes. But this time, her audience was not sick children but those of her family, seventeen in all now. And her venue was not a hospital, but the warm, cozy confines of the Underground Home they had lived in for countless years.

Even after so much time had passed, her hair still glowed in the sunlight, just like her eyes and skin. And though she had started out by healing a simple cut, she now cured the diseases, and tumors, and any other illness that plagued the children of whatever hospital she and Peter could sneak into.

Although it was rare, if the child was orphaned or abused, Kaytee and Peter would take them home to Neverland. But most of the time, the child's family would return and find their baby no longer sick or dying, while an exhausted Kaytee sneaked away under Peter's supporting arm.

It had been Kaytee's idea, of course. For how could she ignore the possibilities of her new power when she had lost so many dear friends already? How many times had she wished she could simply heal Sammy with a snap of her fingers?

So, with the help of Peter's magic, and a bit of confidence on Kaytee's end, they began to visit any hospital they could find on a weekly basis and heal the children who otherwise would've died without their help.

Years upon years passed with this routine. As technology and medicine advanced, they found she was less and less needed. Which was just fine, because another need had begun to grow in their hearts. It began the first time they passed a very particular section of the hospital.

They had made a wrong turn, read the elevator directory backwards, asked for new directions at one point, and got even more lost in the end.( "I told you he said down, not up." "And I told you that level three was the green ward, and the green ward said Pediatrics on the sign." "Peter, you can't even read the word 'Pediatrics'.")

They had just decided to retrace their steps when Peter stopped suddenly, and edged over to the side. Kaytee, confused, went to stand next to him, looked down, and smiled.

"They're so small," Peter had whispered in awe, hands pressed against the glass, peering down at the rows of newborns in the Nursery, eyes wide, "I never knew they could be so, so small."

One of the babies, swaddled in a pink blanket covered in teddy bears, yawned and blinked up at them. Her neighbor, another little pink bundle, began to cry. Peter looked down at her, his smile warm and curious, and whispered "Shh."

The baby stopped crying, her small pink mouth forming the first sign of a smile as she fell asleep.

"I wonder how small ours would be." Kaytee whispered, and then cleared her throat, "I mean, if we ever did. Have one, that is. A baby. Our own baby." Kaytee stumbled over her words, which was very unlike her, cheeks pink, her smile shy. Peter glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Huh," He looked back down to the babies. Then he shrugged, "Maybe... one day... we could find out?"

After that, they visited the nursery every time they went to the hospital, cooing more openly over the small ones.

"Would you want a boy or girl?" Peter whispered one time. They looked at each other and said at the same time: "Boy".

Once, they actually sneaked inside, and after slipping on a gown and gloves, Peter stuck a finger into the tiny, open palm of one of the little babies whose chart read"Joshua".

The tiny hand tightened around the tip of Peter's pinky finger, the color of roses and cream. Peter stayed frozen, not daring to breathe, the wonder in his eyes astronomical and profound. They stood there for a very long time.